


The Path to Hell

by ArticulateDream



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Fix all the canon, Gen, M/M, OC, OFC - Freeform, Possession, Wibbley Wimey Timey Wimey, all the things, blame the end of ATS for this, discussion of broken vampires, have some feels, new slayers - Freeform, powers that be - Freeform, time distortion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:53:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArticulateDream/pseuds/ArticulateDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willow shows up to save the day for Angel investigations. However, there is a flaw to her plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a longish, in progress Willow/Spike/Angel fic that I will finish one day. I swear.

Illyria settled Wesley down, grief foreign and strange rippling through her in waves. She stood quietly, Fred's visage still covering her, and eyed the sorcerer standing. 

He said something, but she didn't hear over the roar in her ears. As her fist passed through his skull, she felt the hollow thrill at his passing. 

She turned intent on leaving this place, and Wesley's colling body behind her. As she turned however, she was stunned to find a red haired woman moving gently glowing hands over the wound in his stomach. 

As she watched, Wesley's color slowly improved. The woman had sweat beading on her brow, but after a few brief moments, the wound in Wesley's abdomen began to knit itself, and she leaned back. 

She looked down, one hand brushing off the sweat, and looked worriedly at Wesley. 

"c'mon, c'mon...don't leave us Wesley..." The woman continued to chant under her breath, eyes raking over his prone form. 

A minute passed. 

Then two. 

Then Wesley took a long wheezing coughing breath, and the woman stood, a whooping cry released from her mouth. 

Shock was strange to Illyria, and she generally disliked the feeling as often as it occurred. Hope even stranger and more foreign. 

However, from deep within her, she felt both emotions radiating. 

\--

"C'mon Wes, get up. We've gotta go." Willow glanced at the door of the room as a booming peal of thunder echoed from outside. "like now." She hopped from one foot to the other anxiously, before her eyes caught sight of the blue skinned woman that had once been Fred. 

She looked down at Wesley, who while still pale was recovering magnificently. Perfect. She held her hand down, and watched as his eyes traveled from the floor, up the length of her arm, to her face. 

"Willow!?" She grinned.

"The one and only. Listen, I'll explain later buddy, we've got places to be."

Wesley shook his head and nodded, taking her hand. His limbs shook as he stood, an unfortunate circumstance that Willow couldn't control. She was lucky enough that he hadn't been quite dead when she'd arrived. Another second, maybe two at the most and he'd have been gone.

She shivered at the thought, and looped one arm over his shoulders, the other at his waist. 

"Illyria.." The blue haired woman walked over, eyes wide as she cocked her head.

"I assumed you dead, was I wrong somehow?"

"He wasn't quite dead" Willow piped up "I could barely bring him back.."

"Illyria, I need your assistance to get to the Hyperion. We musn't keep them waiting."

Illyria did not speak, instead she took Wesley from Willow's grasp, picking him up as though he were no more than an infant, striding from the room purposefully. 

\--

As they traversed the abandoned rainy streets, Willow clucked nervously to herself. If their timing was off...even by a few minutes everything might be lost. 

They covered the last dozen feet or so, a chainlink fence blocking them from the rest of the group. Illyria clambered over easily, Wesley still in her grasp. 

Willow climbed it, if not with Illyria's ease, then without undue difficulty. 

Angel and Spike stood in front her, Gunn at their feet, an axe in his hand. 

"Any word on Wes?" The words are weak but hopeful. 

"Well if you can manage not to die, you'll be in as good of shape as he is." Willow shot back before dropping to her knees in front of Gunn. 

She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and placed a hand over the worst of the man's wounds. She could feel the golden power pulsing through her peacefully, it was the power she had touched with the Scythe, more than 5 years ago. 

It took her only a few minutes before Gunn's wounds had healed and closed themselves. 

"I can't replace the blood you've lost. Just try not to die on me now? okay?"

She stood, brushing her hands off on soaked pantlegs and looked through her sodden hair at Angel and Spike.

"Willow? You came?" Angel's voice was incredulous. 

"Not the time Angel, trust me okay? Or try at least.."

As she spoke, she could hear the tramping of heavy feet on asphault and a huge winged shape-that would be the dragon-let out a deafening roar above their heads. 

"The night is not yet over. I wish to do more violence."

Wesley was standing now, his color good and a blade in his hand. Gunn stood next to him, his axe clapsed tightly. 

"Well wishes seem to be horses today" Spike muttered, his eyes on the massive horde that was drawing closer. Willow could see them now, a teeming mass of thousands of demons.

"Among other things."

Willow looked at the horde again, looked at the sky, looked at the horde. Now. It needed to be right now. Her eyes darted between the two again, and she belatedly listened to the people around her bantering about their next fight. 

Then she saw it. Well, actually she saw several things. First she saw the swirling orifice in the sky. A dark red-brown color it began to swirl slowly, picking up speed with each rotation it made. 

The second thing she was, was the slayers. Not many, just the few that were left. Almost a dozen women swarmed in and around Willow, with another half that number trailing close behind. 

It had worked. 

But too late. She watched with horror, as the orb in the sky finally reached its full speed. The dragon was the first thing to get sucked in, its massive membraned wings pumping uselessly against the magic that pulled at it. 

She yelled against the winds and rain, thanking whatever Gods there were left to mock her that the slayers at least could hear her. She braced herself against the fence, watching as row after row of demons were sucked away from the city. 

Watched as the few slayers that had heard her rushed in, and herded Angel and the others closer to her. Watched as 8, then only 7 rows of the demonic menace were left and began to chant quickly. A golden domed bubble began to manifest around all of them, and became thicker and more concrete the more willow chanted. 

It still wasn't enough. She continued to chant, as she watched the last of the demons sucked up into the orb, and did not stop even when their entire group began to slide towards it. 

She finished, and slapped one hand against the barrier experimentally. It held.

"Hold together!" She yelled, as the wind buffeted them from the ground up and towards that yawning red-brown mass in the sky. 

 

They began to spin in midair, and she grabbed onto the two closest bodies as she was flung across the space of their protection. She felt two pairs of strong arms clasp onto her, and each other.

Then everything faded to black..


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow wakes up to a cave, with Spike and Angel.

"Red luv, c'mon now, wake up for Spike..." Willow's head lolled and she groaned as she began to wake up. She was propped up against a rocky surface, and cool firm arms were holding onto her biceps while someone spoke to her.

"Do you think she had a concussion?" That was Angel. At least, Willow hoped it was Angel. She really didn't have the ability to deal with Angelus right now.

"Nah, see she's coming around. Aren't you Red?" Spike. Definitely Spike, despite the number of British or European men that seemed to swarm into Sunnydale, only Spike had that strange accent. 

Willow groaned again and finally blearily opened her eyes. Her head rolled again, and for a moment Willow felt dizzy and slightly sick. She reached one hand up to brush hair out of her eyes and then looked at Spike in front of her.

"I'm here." She responded weakly. "Is it just the three of us? What about the others? And why do I hurt so badly?"

Spike and Angel shared a brief glance and Angel began to speak while Spike seemed content to try and figure out if Willow would be able to move, as well as the location of every bruise on her aching body. 

"Yes. Your...barrier, got us through the portal but it started cracking up while we were still airborne. When it finally cracked apart..." he paused and licked his lips before continuing. "We all got seperated. You were next to Spike and I, we shielded you as much as we could but..." Willow grimaced and nodded. "We haven't seen anyone else."

Angel stood in the deeper recesses of the small cave system, several feet to Willow's right. Spike was perched in front of her, but as she began to wake up more he stood and moved to the opposite side of the narrow cave. To the left 30 or so feet out was the mouth of the cave. 

Standing, Willow braced one arm against the rock wall and slowly hobbled her way out to the mouth of the cave. Looking out from her altitude, a vision of cracked orange desert filled her vision. There were no signs of life, and the only thing that looked even vaguely like civilisation was a skeletal ruin that extended naked spires into the sky. And the sky was no more comforting. Most of it shone a dark blue-gray, but there were poisonous green and black clouds as well as patches of reg and black in the sky itself.

Almost instantly Willow could feel her pulse skyrocket. This was her fault. She should have been in L.A. earlier. Would have been in L.A. earlier if it had been at all possible. Willow worried as she stood outside the realm of the two vampires lurking in the caves shadows. Just because there was no one here, didn't mean they couldn't find a way home. Besides, she hadn't come all this way to waste away in a Hell dimension. 

She sighed, enjoying the warmsunlight on her face for another brief moment before returning to the shadowy recesses. She moved slowly, her body aching and protesting at even the small amount of movement. When she'd gotten back to a safe distance she carefully lowered herself back to the floor. Despite the fact that she'd been passed out for hours Willow was exhausted. 

"Well we can't go out yet.." Willow started quietly. "But we'll have to make it to those ruins out on the horizon, or find another cave formation before dawn." 

"Do you know where we are?" Angel's voice was quiet in the echoing chamber.

Willow sat for a moment biting her lip , thinking carefully before responding. "I'm not sure. I'm almost positive its a hell dimension but without seeingsome kind of life I can't make an accurate estimate." Willow paused before continuing. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner..." She winced as a muscle in her thigh cramped angrily and continued again. "If I had been, we wouldn't be here right now." She sighed again and looked down to her pale hands, the top of them knicked with a dozen small white scars. 

No one spoke or moved for a long moment, and then Spike piped up. "You're here now Red, s'what matters now, innit?" He sat down next to Willow and smiled warmly at her. "Try to sleep luv. We won't be able to move til dark anyhow."

Spike got himself settled and then gently coaxed Willow into using his shoulder as a pillow. At first she couldn't find the energy to relax, but after a few minutes he began to hum softly. It wasn't long before she'd forgotten why she was tense and had fallen asleep.

\----

Angel stared at Willow's quiet figure as she slept. Just looking at her, he could feel emotions battering at him mercilessly. He'd been so angry with her when she'd denied his plea for help. Her refusal had cost them Fred, and it had been a dear dear price to pay. And yet...and yet, she'd shown up at their most dire hour and had certainly saved Wesley and Gunn if not all of them. 

For all the history that the two of them shared, almost a decade of apocalypses, soul restorations and more, he and Willow had never become particularly close. Angel had always attributed it to the fact that she was Buffy's best friend, and when he'd left town he'd left the memory of his once-love's friend behind. 

But even for their friendship, or rather more accurately, lack thereof, Willow had never denied the Angel Investigations crew of help when they called. Except the last time, their luck had run out, and a hell goddess had taken sweet, sweet Fred from them. 

Angel knew what Willow had been through, or something close to it at least. He'd never gotten the full details from Spike, but he'd gathered enough information to know that the young witch's life had been...difficult. And yet he couldn't help her. Spike hadn't hesitated. The years of loving, and hating, taunting and alternately fighting with the scoobies, had formed a tenuous friendship between the young woman and his erstwhile childe. 

Spike continued to hum quietly, his hand occasionally reaching out to stroke over Willow's dark red hair. Angel moved carefully along the cave floor, endeavouring an absence of noise. He was rewarded for his efforts, and sat parallel from Spike, their feet nearly touching. 

Eventually Spike slowed, and then stopped completely as Willow relaxed and her breathing evened out. His blue eyes seemed to pierce the strange translucent darkness, pinning Angel with their gaze. 

"'S not her fault mate." Angel sighed, a slight frown gracing his face. He shouldn't be suprised, Spike loved picking fights with him, why not this? He did it with everything else.

"Spike..."

"It's ours. Well...yours really, but I'll take a bit of the burden so you don't feel the need to take a jaunt through sunny hell. We sold out, and the girl suffered for it." Spike's voice seemed to skip between a hypnotic intensity and flippant casualness that confused Angel.

"That doesn't explain why she wouldn't.." Angel's voice trailed off quietly in the dark.

"Listen you blood poof. It was our job to protect them, all of them. Help the helpless and all that rot I suppose. You in particular mr.shanshu."

"How d-" Angel's remark was cut short as Spike began to talk again.

"S'allright sire. I did too. I owed her more than any of you lot, and I let her down jus the same. But the thing you always seem to forget, s'at humans die. Frail, fragile little things, we lose one every few years. Ya can't save 'em all, just got to watch over the few you can, and pray they're fighters." Spike's voice had taken on the same intense cadence as before, the rough texture of it alluring even to Angel. "And some things you just can't stop. S'not that I don't miss Fred, don't mourn her loss, s'just that she'da been gone from us inna few more years anyway. We don't get to go to paradise after this, proved that last fall didn't I?"

"I can't believe that."

"Why not? Signed away your shanshu, your redemption, didn't cha?"

"For a reason."

"We'll see if that stands up in the light of night. Now if you'll excuse me, I need sleep as much as she does."

Angel watched as Spike's pale eyelids closed, his mind swirling. The anger and guilt still stirred deep in his chest, but now it was more directed as himself than at Willow. Spike was right. It had been his job to take care of them, and what had he done? He'd relied on Willow's prowess to save them time and again. His mood thoroughly darkened, Angel followed the lead of his two cavemates and closed his eyes to sleep.

\---

Willow trudged across the endless, monotonous, miles of cracked bleached earth under her feet with little enthusiasm. Hours ago, when she'd risen in the cave systems to see the last of the sunset. Willow, along with Spike and Angel had carefully navigated the small winding path that led down from the caves, onto the floor of the desert. 

When they'd first gotten down to the cracked earth, Willow had thought it was beautiful. In the daylight it was a heady orange-yellow that seemed to smoulder, but under the light of the moon it had a bleached ethereal quality that she could not ignore. 

She'd also found herself unable to ignore the antics of her two traveling companions. Spike had started talk, and just didn't stop. Willow had laughed with him as he'd made fun of Angel. She'd watched Angel retort for a few hours before getting broody and lapsing into silence. 

Their moods had all grown darker as they'd made their way across the barren landscape. In front of them, no more than another mile or so, rose the dark ruin of the building they'd spied at dusk. It rose, towering above the bleak desert landscape, a creation of metal and wood. 

It must have been beautiful once, Willow noted detachedly. Thick spires wound up and away from the base of the building, ending in burnt out platforms that reached against the broken sky. Though a number of windows dotted the multiple floors and the spires that spit away, no shades or curtains were kept in the windows. You could see past a few of them, wispy wraiths of movement that chilled Willow and sent her imagination running. The main floor lacked windows, that it did have a large double door braced with irons brackets over the thick dark wood. 

Willow had been looking around for no less than the last several hours. She didn't really want to go into the ruin, its curtainless windows echoing like eyes on her. But they hadn't passed so much as a scrub brush, so she'd resigned herself to having to sleep the day away the in creepy ruins. 

They wouldn't have bothered Willow usually. Well...that wasn't entirely true. Generally they wouldn't have bothered her as much. She'd spent as much time as the next girl sneaking through old shattered ruins. That didn't mean she had to like it. 

As they neared the ruin, the sun began its slow ascent into the sky, painting the broken sky grey with dark green-black patches that flashed angrily. Much as she didn't like the building, she disliked the sky even more. Inside the ruin wasn't quite as bad as the young witch had feared. 

Unlike the ruined burnt out spires, the main floor of the building seemed in agreeable shape. Granted there were too many cobwebs, and the furniture was all covered with enough accumulated dust to make it look like someone had gotten slay-happy, but considering their alternative, it wasn't too shabby. 

Willow watched half-awake as Angel and Spike began to squabble over nothing again. It was almost as though they couldn't break the habit simply because they'd been doing it for too long. It was kind of cute in a rote, circular reasoning kind of way. 

Though honestlly Willow couldn't care. It lend the dawn a semblance of normalcy however, and that she could appreciate. She watched as the two men prowled over the ground floor until they found a room secure enough for their conditions. The conditions being a lack of windows, and an excess of furniture. 

Twenty minutes later Willow was asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon waking up, Willow makes a startling discovery.

When Willow woke, it was to a silent room, dark and lightless. Blearily she blinked against the darkness, her mind reminding her where she was and why. Unlike yesterday, waking covered in bruises while her head ached, she was simply disoriented. Where were the sounds of the council, the bells that announced a threat? The indistinguishable babble that had filled her life for so long now? 

Sighing, she sat up, feet navigating themselves to the floor by means of touch with any light absent. She was…somewhere, though the witch was unsure of where. They’d landed in a hell dimension, hopefully she reminded herself fiercely, not the same one that Wolfram and Hart’s army of demons had been transported to.

She stood up, wobbling precariously before she regained her balance, and began to make her way across the windowless room by touch. It didn’t take her long to make her way from the room. She’d long ago begun to memorize the placement of doors so she could make a speedy exit if it became necessary.

She slipped through the thick wooden door, out into one of the smaller circular hallways they’d discovered the night before. The hallway was dim, but not devoid of light. On either side of the hallway, at irregular intervals, a number of doors were set. Willow ignored most of them, choosing the door they’d come though last night. When she emerged into the main chamber, a large circular room with wide gaping windows, and a curved staircase that disappeared above, the sun was shining brightly.

It gave off the same colors as yesterday. An orange light that seemed intensified, by the lack of life and foliage outside. She heard a noise from outside, a skittering, like something being skipped on the parched cracked ground outside. She moved carefully, lips already moving with a spell.

But when she slid into the doorway, dark eyes searching the barren landscape for some sign of life, there was nothing. Not even a breeze stirred the thick desert air. Willow stood in the doorway for a long minute, eyes searching for a hidden glamour. She reached out spider thin tendrils of magic into the air, probing, but still found nothing. After several minutes, she slid back inside the ruined building.

Without a culprit, even one so mundane as the breeze, to account from the noise Willow had heard outside, all of her senses seemed on high alert. Her ears were pricked, but took in nothing but a perfect silence. Her eyes flashed across each dim room she wandered through, and found a complete lack of movement. When she started to jump at the shadows she was casting, the witch decided it was time to go and wake up her companions.

She retraced her steps, walking back through the half dozen rooms, and reaching the main chamber again. As she did, her eyes picked up strange bits and pieces, which her mind wasn’t assembling quickly enough. The furniture all had a thick layer of dust on it. What was dust made of again? Was it skin?

Willow walked from the circular chamber, out a different side door, and down the curving hallway that the room they’d slept in was adjoined too. As she walked, her stride a bit quicker than usual, she continued trying to decipher what she’d seen. Dust on the furniture, and even on the shelves and top of picture frames. But none on the floor or where it would be noticed if you walked. Dust is composed of dirt, tiny fibers of textiles, and remains of bugs, sand, and skin.

But how was the dust collecting so quickly without someone or much of anything to attribute to it? Willow grimaced in frustration, and she looked over her shoulder again. She had the eerie feeling that someone was watching her. She shook it off, and continued down the hall until she reached her destination.

She opened the door carefully, glancing above her head as she did so to make sure there was no direct sunlight invading the makeshift lair Spike and Angel had chosen. However, when the dim light began to inch into the darkness of the small room, Willow’s eyes bulged. Gone, they were both gone. She could feel her mind kicking up into gear. Had they been here when she’d gotten up? Where could they have gone? Were they dead?

As though in response to the frantic pace her brain was going at, the building around Willow moaned, a voice of strained metal and broken wood. The walls around Willow swayed lightly from side to side for a long minute before settling a good 6 inches of where it had began. Willow checked the small room again looking for signs of a struggle, blood, something. How could she have slept through this, or missed it after she’d woken?

She began to swear quietly but viciously in several languages before she calmed. She closed her eyes, speaking out a small protection spell. It wasn’t much, but it was more of warning than she would have. Not that she envied anyone who tried to attack her. She was not the pure little Wicca girl she’d been years ago.

Her mind began to calm, and methodically try to piece everything together. As she did, she moved towards the main room of the ruins. It was daylight outside, so if either of the vampires had tried to run, they’d have been dust in seconds. There was no sign of a struggle, no blood, not even the furniture covers were particularly mussed.

There was dust caking the furniture, the candelabras, everything; Except for the floor and doorways. Dust was usually composed of bugs, sand, dirt, and skin. But that still wouldn’t explain the excess amount that sat on anything stationary. Unless there are molting birds or reptiles nearby her mind supplied her helpfully.

There was still no answer to the dust problem, and Willow knew just _knew_ that it was connected to why the vampires were currently missing in action, or inaction, as it were. There was only one place Willow could think of, and her eyes were drawn back to the skeletal staircase that wound along the outside of the circular chamber until it twisted out of eyesight somewhere above.

Willow sighed, cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders and started up the stairs.

**

Angel woke disoriented and less than pleased. It was a slow process, gradually realizing that the rubbery impediments at his sides were actually his arms. A steady throbbing at the back of his skull made it difficult to move, or focus his eyes. He groaned low, unable to stop himself. He squinted dark eyes open, but still couldn’t quite focus on the figures in front of him.

There were four blurry figures standing in front of him. He could tell they weren’t human, their skin a seemingly grey-green that was bright matched against the dark robes they wore. He could hear them talking, but didn’t recognize the language, much less the dialect.

He could feel the movement of air, it swept along the smooth surface he had been settled on. The thing that worried him most was the light. It was still dark where he sat, even with his blurred vision, he could tell that much. But not far out from him, he could see the brightness of sunlight.

Angel struggled to right himself, mind racing with worry. Where was Willow? Was she all right? Where was Spike? Where was he? He groaned again, louder than before, and tried to move to his feet, his body frustratingly weak and slow.

The creatures began to speak excitedly, and he felt something icy cold press into the back of his head. Then everything faded back into nothingness.

**

Willow scaled the stairs quicker than she would have wagered initially. The stairs had looked unstable and rickety, but under her feet they were reassuringly solid. When they ended, Willow was on the second floor, and it was roughly similar to the base floor.

Circular, with a bare floor, and smooth walls that ascended without as much as a ripple in their architecture. The windows on this floor were placed higher, allowing more shadows to roam over the smooth dark floor. Unlike the main floor, the second story was not littered with a detritus of abandoned furniture.

There were only two draped shaped on this floor, and a handful of picture frames. Upon closer inspection, Willow realized that whatever pictures had once been held in the frames, had all been ripped or torn to shreds. Left to rot, and crumble away into dust and nothingness.

There were only two doors on this floor, although another staircase did rise up yet another floor. Willow eyed both of the doors, and then the staircase before she graceless plopped down onto the floor.

Between her experiences with dark magic after Tara’s death, and the complete opposite of that when she’d unleashed the scythe, Willow had grown in power. Where most practicing witches needed a variety of herbs and other help to actually tap into mystical forces, it now ran through Willow’s blood.

It made times like this much easier in comparison. Willow closed her eyes, and did her best to relax as she began to project herself. It wasn’t technically astral projection. No one else would see Willow, and all she could really see were the energy signatures of the people around her.

However, vampires like most demons had their own particular signature. That would make Willow’s job exponentially easier. She cleared her mind as best she could, and then, no more corporeal than the wind she drifted looking for her vampires.

She found Spike within moments. It made sense really; Willow had spent so much time around the younger vampire that she knew his essence better than Angel. She found him only another floor up, off of the main room in a smaller room. She couldn’t tell much about its physical characteristics, its walls an inconsistent grey blur.

But she could read spike. He wasn’t hurt, at least not badly. Though the edges of his signature were reading a dark red-black, which cracked like lightning. Willow grimaced and pulled out of the room to see why he was so angry. Milling in the hall before his closet, Willow could see 5-6 creatures. She couldn’t physically see them, but much like Spike their energy was bright enough.

It glowed a dull green-grey, and moved as they shuffled back and forth in the hall. Never leaving Spike’s door alone for more than the briefest second, straining Willow tried to open her sense enough to hear them. If she could catch a hint of conversation she might be lucky enough to know the language, and if she knew the language she might know the demons before she even saw them.

Then she started to feel the sun. It was beginning to set, slowly still. However, the demons became more agitated, and from above her she could actually hear Spike as he began to snarl. Before she came back to herself, she heard him yell once.

“You think we’re the ones to worry about mate!? Just you wait damned lizards!”

Lizards. A research session from high school suddenly came flooding back into her mind, clear as though she were still 17. Dyrmen demons, are a blend of human and lizard. They stand about 6 ½-7 ½ feet tall, and are best known in the dimension of Xemphra. Brutal, they believe in nightly sacrifices of anything they can get their hands on, and were long ago banished to the wastelands, even in their home dimension. Dyrmen demons, while large and strong can be easily defeated. They are quick to strike, but can be distracted and are susceptible to magic.

“Dyrmen demons?” Willow spoke aloud, her voice no more than the barest of whispers. Then she heard Spike howl again from upstairs, whether in pain or rage, she couldn’t be sure. Sacrificial. They meant to sacrifice Spike and Angel to the sun. the lizard demons would also explain the amount of dust, because they shed their skin like snakes each time they grew larger.

Willow ran up the stairs two at a time. When she reached the top, she bounded around a corner and through the door. She came face to face with 4-5 of the demons.

Spike she thought, speaking with her mind. In about 10 seconds, your door is going to be weak enough to open. I need you to burst out, and help me kill these demons. They’re dyrmen demons, just push ‘em over and stomp on their heads or something.

She heard a muffled exclamation of surprise and then began to back up rapidly, while looking as meek as possible. The demons bought it. All of them began to converge on the red head, while she did her best to cringe and look terrified.

Thankfully she didn’t have to act long. After a few short moments there was an explosion of wood and metal chips that broke away from the closet-room they’d sequestered Spike into. His sl form seemed more dangerous than usual, though that might have had something to do with the fact that his game face was on, and Willow could see the fury shining out of yellow eyes.

He tore through the 3-4 closest to him, and was descending on the last surviving demon, when it screamed. As though it had been a bugle, Willow saw at least a dozen more demons coming at a run from different directions. All of them had weapons. She tried to call out to Spike, tried to tell him to get closer to her where she could protect him.

There was no time. She watched in seemingly slow motion, as one of the lizards took a long sharpened wooden spear and from at least 15-20 feet hurled it at Spike. She tried to call out, but there was no time. By the time her mouth was open, the wooden shaft had penetrated through the blonde vampire’s chest as Willow looked at him in horror, and he looked down in shock.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow retaliates.

The world had slowed down, and taken Willow with it. She could see each action and reaction, as the world flowed around her. The dull glinting scales of the Dyrmen demon’s skin as they rushed into the hallway. The malicious gleam in their eyes when they saw it was not only Spike now, but Willow as well. 

Spike had seen a few of the demons, but not the larger group coming from behind. Even so, he was violence incarnate. His ridged forehead made his dark gold eyes even brighter, and the exultation gleaming out of them was wonderful. He tore another of the demons apart, wrenching its head off its neck and tossing it to the ground. 

Willow casted, silently and as quickly as possible. The demons hadn’t made it past Spike yet to attempt and harm her. But even as her lips moved, forming the shape of words she wasn’t speaking aloud, Willow saw the demon. 

It came running from the back of the group, a spear taller than it was, clutched in one muscled arm. She struggled to cast faster, eyes taking in everything at once. She could see the muscles in the demon’s shoulder and arm bunch as he threw the spear towards Spike. As it let go, her eyes met Spike’s.

Bloodlust, violence and the pure unyielding joy in destruction met hers. Spike snarled, and the sound filled the hallway. Willow met his eyes, struggling to finish the last few words of the spell. She watched, horrified, unable to speak in the fraction of a second it had taken for the spear to travel from the Dyrmen demon’s hand, into Spike’s chest.

His gold eyes widened, shock and pain playing over his visceral features. An apology seemed to roll towards Willow as his eyes shifted from gold to black. The protection spell ceased in her mind, no longer necessary. She could feel tears in her eyes, and then her black magic began to surge forward from deep within her. She saw nothing at all. Then she saw red. 

Willow let her head roll from side to side, as the black magic freed itself from the constraints she had set on it. It swept through her veins, in mere moments. Agony and ecstasy, icy fire that filled her veins, searing them as it went. As it rushed over her, she could feel what the magic allowed her to feel. Anger, revenge, Wrath.

Her eyes searched the room around her, calmly, and coldly. However, there was no mistaking the malice that flowed from her now like water. The demons stared at her for a long moment, probably trying to make their eyes believe that the cruel black haired, ebon eyed woman in front of them was the same young red-head they’d seen only seconds ago. If they only knew. 

Several of the demons seemed to have gotten over their shock at her change of appearance, and moved into a fighting stance. Another of the demons from the back threw another spear, this time in her general direction. Without even looking, willow made a flippant motion of her hand. The spear veered away from her, instead slamming into another demon. 

It was at the point that the rest of the demons tried to rush her. They got about 4 steps into their charge, before she stopped them. A casual wave of her hand, and the demons stopped in their tracks, unable to move, several of them midstep. Willow leveled her onyx gaze around and the room.   
“Now that wasn’t very polite.” She sighed softly and several of the demons growled in response. “Well, that just won’t do.” She spoke again, and as she did so she moved one hand slowly through the air, fingers moving nimbly as though she were capturing bits of yarn in her hand.

She looked down to her hand, now clasped tightly around air. What the demons, couldn’t see, was the fact that Willow now held more than a dozen brightly shining strands in her hand. The strands connected into the chest of each of the Dyrmen demon’s chests. 

“Well if you can’t play nice, you shouldn’t play at all.” With a brutal twist, she severed the lives of the demons, and loosed them from their magical bonds. In unison, the demons all fell to the ground dead.

“He did warn you.” Willow said softly as she moved from the room, the malevolence in her voice clear.

She moved out into the hallway, and closed her eyes for a moment, seeking out Angel. She found him after a brief moment, settled high atop the spires that topped the ruined building. 

Willow closed her eyes, concentrated, and began to move. 

\--  
When she stopped moving, she was suspended only a scant few feet from the top of one of the spires. The power that had been propelling her gently settled her down and then began to seep back into her bones and blood, until the next time it became necessary. 

Once her feet had touched down, Willow focused that dark gaze on the spires around her, except that they weren’t quite spires. They were platforms. There were roughly 8 of them, not all of them the same size, shape or diameter. 

Willow seemed to have touched down on one of the smaller platforms, it only extended about 6 feet in any direction. Most of the others also had some form of sheet metal that had been pounded until it was paper thin, bordering on translucent. 

Upon her arrival, she could see that the other platforms each held several of the demons from downstairs. She heard a pained cry from the middle platform, and recognized Angel’s voice. 

She summoned the same power that had moved her up and around to the platform her currently stood on. It manifested quickly, a painful whipping wind. She waited until it had manifested completely, surrounded her in a gale of wind. Then she began to send it out. 

She closed her eyes, concentrating as she did so. The winds began to make wider arcs, drifting further away from her as she directed them to the demons standing on top of the other platform’s. 

They never had a chance. The Dyrmen were swept off the top screaming, and into the fire hot metal that scorched their bones before they managed to throw themselves off the building. After only a few short minutes, there was no one else standing. 

The witch called the magic back to herself, but did not will it away yet. She used the wind magic to carry herself up from her current position, to the tallest spire, the one that stood in the middle of the others. When she regained her balance on the precariously tall perch, her heart stopped in her chest. 

Angel sat only inches from the metal at his back. Thick gleaming shackles that ran from his elbow to his wrist affixed him to the hot dark material of the spire itself. At the sight of him, and the lack of anyone at whom to strike out at, Willow could feel the dark magic fading back and into her blood.

The icy rage that had consumed her melted back, and the grief at what had already occurred was already hammering against fragile self control. Angel’s situation didn’t help things any either. His head dropped in between his shackled arms, his legs splayed out in front of him. There were several burn marks marring his body, and his eyes were glazed and unfocused. 

Willow’s brain ran, trying to outdo itself. Angel continued to sit, shackles affixing him to the top of the Spire. The metal barricades would block them, but only for so long. As it were, Angel was already weak from the prolonged exposure to sunlight. Shadows stretched wide over the spire, but none of them in a place she could move Angel too.

Whether by chance or design, the barricades did not block the sun from the trapdoor that could lead them back and down to safety, so that was out. Not that she preferred to wander back down into that demon lair again anyway. Grief struck at her like a wave on the beach. Drowning her mercilessly. In her mind’s eyes she saw Spike’s eyes as the pike had pierced his chest.

She fought for control, but the grief was unending. And now Angel sat in front of her, and there was little if anything she could do. Willow struggled not to cry, and as though it were the straw on the camel’s back, she could feel the darker side of her magic come surging again through her veins.

However, this time it was not a deluge. The magic did not overwhelm her like it usually did, instead it helped to numb her to the grief, and face the more immediate problem. The ice in her veins should have been disconcerting, but at the moment she just didn’t care.

Willow walked away from Angel, standing in the full glare of the sun, only a few scant feet away from the trapdoor. In only a few minutes, the sun’s trajectory would become deadly to Angel. And he would fall to ash, sweeping off a rooftop. She took in a deep breath, and exhaled quietly, trying desperately for control.

The pounded pieces of metal were too well adhered to the side of the building, and she feared if she tried to move one it would bring the building crashing down below them. One hand raked through her dark hair as her mind struggled with its new conundrum.

Stop the sun an alluring voice whispered to her, Not forever, just until you find another solution… the voice was quiet, and seemed to wind itself around Willow, power of persuasion weaving itself over her. And what? She shot back. Let the world burn, or die, or collapse or Gods know what else. No thanks buddy! She took another steadying breath, and ignored the seductive voice that tended to strike whenever she tapped into the dark magic.

As she did, Willow heard a weak scraping from below the trapdoor. Her eyes, filled with power, and she snapped her fingers, cracking Angel’s bonds off his arms. It never hurt a girl to be prepared. Power crackled between her fingers and up to her elbows, making the thin air thick with magic and power.

Willow breathed it in, allowing the magic to fill her like a vessel before it began to ripple outwards from her. It wasn’t all dark magic either. Her innate ability, as well as the magic’s she’d taken on after her encounter with the Scythe filled her just as completely. It was an intoxicating mix, life and death, nature and that which lies beyond it. From under her feet, the stone began to crack slightly, though she didn’t notice, tiny green things growing into the spaces between.

She fixed her eyes onto the trapdoor, waiting, until she saw what was trying to open it. Considering their luck so far had included Angel’s pretty certain imminent death, and Spike’s death by pike, she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the proposition.

As the door began to flip up and over, Willow realized several things. The first was that Angel’s metaphorical hourglass had dropped its last grain of sand. She heard the pained yell from behind her, as the sunlight finally crept around the metal barrier and hit him. At the same moment, she heard a familiar voice from below the trapdoor call out.

“Angel mate? Hold on now peaches…” And Spike emerged into the sunlight, one hand clutched weakly over a hole in his chest as he collapsed weakly out from the trapdoor.

No. Angel’s cries of pain grew louder, as the sun finally hit him dead on, and Spike’s voice joined his. Not again! Willow could feel the power she held within her, acting on its own prerogative. Before she could move or speak, it burst out from her in a dense shockwave of energy.

Somehow, though Willow couldn't imagine how, she managed to stay concious through the whole process. Both the voices of Spike and Angel cut off mild yell, and Willow felt the impact of her body on the ground. She groaned softly, and opened her eyes as she pulled herself to a sitting position.

Only a few feet away, Spike and Angel were both thoroughly unconcious. Willow could feel sleep pulling at her as well. But not before she noticed that all three of them had been set down on a patch of thick green grass about 15 feer in diameter. The last thing Willow saw before exhaustion pulled her back to sleep, was the brightly shining sun that bore down on all three of them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow has a dream. Spike is stuck with Angel. And we see what the rest of the gang has been up to.

Willow woke slowly. As she slipped from dreams into wakefulness, she could feel the thick green grass under her back. Her face was warm with sunlight, and it brought back a soft smile. The smell of lavender brought her out of sleep finally, and she sat up looking around her. 

She sat in a small forested glade. The grass was thick and lush, sending up fragrances that made Willow remember playing with Xander and Jesse as a child. The trees parted some way above her head, allowing the sun to come and dance along the grass. The trees were all adorned with flowers that grew off of vines, brightly colored and twined around branches and roots alike. 

Several well worn paths bore away from the glade and into the forest. Willow was pleased to note that the paths were all foot made, and worn gently. Oblivious to the world around them, and the sun shining brightly through the trees, were two familiar bodies. 

Angel and Spike; they lay on different sides of the small glade, their skin untouched. Willow hurried over, fear lancing through her heart. She couldn’t wait to be rid of this dimension and everything in it already. And yet… at the vampire’s calm demeanor and their apparent health, she could feel her heart slowing to normal.

“They’re fine you know”

Willow spun on her heel, magic already flaring through her blood sprinting to her fingertips. It slowed when Willow saw the woman standing in the shade at the edge of the glade. Tara. The name whispered through Willow’s mind sending a shiver down her spine.

“Baby?” The word seemed to fall short of the blonde woman, and Willow could feel her heart skip a beat in her chest. 

“Come talk to me a bit?” Tara cocked her head, looking at Willow with the same mixture of shyness and wisdom that had drawn her in, in the beginning.

The beginning. Before Death and Resurrection. Before Willow’s spiral, before Glory and Dawn. When Willow was still broken on the inside from Oz. Back when things were good more often than bad, and L.A. wasn’t a giant crater teeming with every breed of demon from here to eternity. 

Willow shook her head, and attempted to puzzle out the woman’s sudden appearance. She sent a glance towards the men in the glade with her and Tara’s blue eyes softened slightly.

“I’m not a demon Willow. But they won’t wake. Not until they’re ready, or you are, either way.” She shrugged her shoulder slightly and moved into the sunlight, settling herself down next to Willow. 

Willow sat down quietly, but still shot the sleeping vampires several worried looks in the process. She didn’t care if they were safe, they were vampires! In Sunlight! How exactly was this, a good idea? If she could just move them into the shade she’d be much more comfortable. 

Immediately she heard a groaning sound as the trees that reached far above her head wound themselves closer together, leaving Willow and Tara in a tiny patch of sunlight that barely reached around the two women. 

“And if I wasn’t dreaming before, I am now..” Willow said out loud, her voice quiet but stern. 

Tara simply nodded in agreement. 

“So I take it I’m supposed to remember this dream. Although I take it they sent you so that I’d be more pliable to what they are asking?” Willow played with the grass as she spoke, not wanting to see Tara’s face. The woman’s presence was powerful enough, and she had questions that had to be answered before she could relax in her dead lover’s presence. 

“You might remember it. At least part of it will stay with you.” Tara’s voice was smooth and rhythmic, the words falling off of her tongue easily. “But no, they didn’t send me because you’d be more pliable. They asked me and I said yes.”

Willow was quiet for a moment, but in a sudden brash second she met Tara’s eyes head on. “I’m glad…” she licked her lips. “I missed you so much baby..” Tears formed in her eyes and splashed over her pale cheeks.

“I know sweet heart. But I had to go, it was my time. I’m sorry for the grief and the anger that you wrought out of it, but in the end without that we wouldn’t be here, now would we?” Tara’s voice was equal measures of concern and compassion, and as Willow’s eyes cleared she saw none of the anger or shame she’d feared in Tara’s eyes.

“So you’re happy about what happened then?”

Tara smiled wanly, and looked down for a moment before replying. “Not always. Willow if I could have stayed, I would have, you know that. But…it’s different for me. Wills, you have to let me go…stop carrying me around with you. You know…you know I’ll always be here, but its time to move forward again.”

Willow could feel tears brimming at her eyes, and blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. “Do you promise? Promise you’ll still keep an eye?” She sniffled and tried vainly to keep the tears at bay,

“Of course. But you have to understand Wills, this isn’t a message from me.” She looked skywards and pointed a slender finger in the same direction. “It’s from them. It’s to let go baby, I don’t need you anymore. But those two…” her gaze moved over to Spike and Angel’s sleeping forms. “They’ll need you more than you know. Or they do really” She added quietly. “You’re here because the powers brought you here. All of you. There are things to be dealt with, and they decided on their favorite chosen heroes.”

“I’m no hero.” Willow stated, her voice inflectionless.

“That’s not how they see it. You worked with buffy, restored Angel’s soul, did your best without ever being chosen and rose to it.”

“I also went on a black magic bender, flayed a man alive, hurt my best friends, and nearly ended the world.” Willow added flatly. 

Tara didn’t respond at first, instead leveling her liquid dark eyes onto Willow. “Everyone makes mistakes Willow. Even Angel and Buffy. Even you. But that’s not the point. You told Buffy once you wanted to be part of this fight, and like it or not they heard you. Well, they say welcome back.” 

Tara leaned her face in, and gave the other woman a soft kiss on the forehead. As she did, Willow could feel her eyelids growing heavy and from somewhere in front of her she heard Tara’s voice murmuring softly.

“This was my gift as much as yours love. A way to say goodbye, and an apology for the years they stole from us. Be happy Willow…” And then she was gone, and Willow was charging once more through her dreams. 

**

 

When Willow woke, she couldn’t remember which. She had lingering dreams of a soft kiss on her forehead, and her chest felt lighter, but past that it was gone. She shook her head, and blinked her eyes to clear them. 

Around her she was sitting in a small glade. She was sitting on a thick patch of grass, and small bushes dotted the area. A small patch of vibrantly colored flowers bloomed just out of her reach. Beyond the grass, thick trees grew with winding vines and flowers covering them. 

The sun filtered softly down from above the canopy bathing Willow in warmth. The entire scene was like a 180 degree switch from what she’d seen upon her arrival in this dimension. She was wont to believe it was Xemphra what with the Dyrmen demons and all, but sadly she couldn’t remember a single snatch of information about the place. 

The witch rubbed at her eyes and began to stretch out her legs, her eyes wandering along the edge of the clearing. She grimaced as she began to pull twigs and other bits of debris out of her hair. After a few short minutes she stood and walked on stiff legs to the edge of the clearing. She didn’t want to leave. It was peaceful here. No need to worry about her traveling companions, they could probably do well for themselves without her. . .

Thinking about it for a moment Willow stopped at a tree at the edge of the clearing. Surely they could take care of themselves. Besides which, she was tired. She’d just sit down for a few minutes and surely they’d stumble upon her. 

Willow could feel a corner of her mind trying futilely to break through to her, but she ignored it. Before she could think further of the fact, the vines that held the bright blue and green flowers caught her attention. 

**

Spike stared at his sire in irritation. Angel was awake, and seemed fine, for all the time he’d spent chained to a spire yesterday. Spike was less fine. He still couldn’t move far, or for long. The pike that had skewered him yesterday had been less than 3 inches from his heart. The vampire was still astounded that it hadn’t managed to kill him.

He’d managed to get most of the splinters out yesterday in between Willow killing all the demons and spiriting the three of them into the middle of a forest in who-knew-where. He and Angel had inspected the wound this morning, and while it seemed to be healing well, it was still sore.

A sore the size of a child’s fist, that resided next to his heart. So yes, he’d been having some issues going for longer than a few minutes. However, that didn’t excuse his poof of a sire turning into a puppy that wallowed in guilty for the five or ten minutes they needed to stop. Angel was convinced that Willow had burnt herself up in moving them, been overwhelmed by the magic and died.

Spike was less enthusiastic than his masochistic maker. He figured Red was just off sleeping the effects on her body. When she woke up, she’d find them. Or, in their haphazard trail across the forest they’d find her. It generally worked that way. 

“-I mean what am I? Human I just let-“ Spike interrupted Angel’s rant to himself with a firmly printed boot to the back of his head. Angel fell forward a few feet, skidded on his oversize forehead and came to a sputtering stop several feet away.

“What was that for!?” He sputtered out indignantly.

“That’s for being a pessimistic wanker when Red is still out there somewhere.”

“We don’t even know she’s alive.” Angel said sorrowfully.

“You” Spike began, each word carefully bitten out from between clenched teeth. “Are. A. Pratt. Now I’m off to find Red, if you’re done mourning your inability to be chosen, then you should come with me” Spike carefully lowered himself out of the tree branch he’d been sitting in and marched off, albeit slowly, into the woods. He didn’t have to look to see if Angel was following him, he could hear the broody pillock even when he was being quiet.

**

Wesley, Illyria, a small handful of new slayers, and Faith all wandered aimlessly through the forest. They’d been here for several days, and though they hadn’t crossed their own paths yet-Wesley had been instructing the Slayers to crosshatch every third or fourth tree they crossed as markers-that didn’t mean they weren’t traveling in circles. 

The Slayers chatted amongst themselves, Faith and Wesley attempted to keep up a dialogue, but it had been lacking thus far. It wasn’t just the fact that neither of them were completely at ease without Angel’s presence to mitigate their circumstances. 

Half the time, they were watching Illyria, or Fred. Wesley took another deep breath to calm his over extended nerves as he watched the god/physicist meander in front of him. When they’d landed some 3 days ago now, He had been separated from Illyria. Faith and about 3 of the Slayers had found him.

The five of them had been separated from the other 4 slayers, and Illyria for most of that first day. At dusk, their fire had been seen, and the last 5 of their party had wandered in. The difference however, was that Illyria had been wearing Fred’s guise again. When they’d walked into the firelight, and her soft eyes had met his, Wesley had simply looked past Illyria. A habit that had become frighteningly easy after Fred’s death. 

“Put that mask away Illyria, you know I do not abiding lying when it is unnecessary.”

“Lying? Wesley what are you talking about? It’s me! Fred.”

Wesley had withdrawn after that, leaving Faith to deal with Illyria. The next morning she had seemed herself, but sporadically would fade back into Fred. Illyria was conscious of what was happening, and everything that had happened up until this point. Fred was not. Her last memories seemed to be of the day before her accident. 

The day they’d kissed. 

Wesley wasn’t sure what was happening. Neither was Faith. They knew they were somewhere in a supposed hell dimension. They didn’t know which or how hostile it might be outside this forest. They didn’t know if Angel, Spike, or Willow had survived the fall. And they sure as hell didn’t know what was going on with Illyria. 

As the light began to grow dim, Faith called a halt to their hike and began to make camp. Slayers ranged out in the woods for fire, as well as small game to eat for dinner. Illyria, Wesley and Faith stayed and pitched camp. The slayers had come well equipped with small survival packs. They had enough blankets for everyone assembled, as well as a few chipped pots, and emergency rations. They’d already gone through most of the purified water.

Not long after, the younger slayers returned. Most of them had wood, enough to last them until morning, although a handful of others brought rabbits and several small birds to be cooked. Wesley helped to build the fire and skin the animals. He ate the meat kabobs they’d affixed to small wooden stakes, and then fell asleep. 

Tonight, like every other night since they’d fallen back in with Illyria, he kept his distance as best he could.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel broods, and Spike has a dream.

Willow woke slowly. As she slipped from dreams into wakefulness, she could feel the thick green grass under her back. Her face was warm with sunlight, and it brought back a soft smile. The smell of lavender brought her out of sleep finally, and she sat up looking around her. 

She sat in a small forested glade. The grass was thick and lush, sending up fragrances that made Willow remember playing with Xander and Jesse as a child. The trees parted some way above her head, allowing the sun to come and dance along the grass. The trees were all adorned with flowers that grew off of vines, brightly colored and twined around branches and roots alike. 

Several well worn paths bore away from the glade and into the forest. Willow was pleased to note that the paths were all foot made, and worn gently. Oblivious to the world around them, and the sun shining brightly through the trees, were two familiar bodies. 

Angel and Spike; they lay on different sides of the small glade, their skin untouched. Willow hurried over, fear lancing through her heart. She couldn’t wait to be rid of this dimension and everything in it already. And yet… at the vampire’s calm demeanor and their apparent health, she could feel her heart slowing to normal.

“They’re fine you know”

Willow spun on her heel, magic already flaring through her blood sprinting to her fingertips. It slowed when Willow saw the woman standing in the shade at the edge of the glade. Tara. The name whispered through Willow’s mind sending a shiver down her spine.

“Baby?” The word seemed to fall short of the blonde woman, and Willow could feel her heart skip a beat in her chest. 

“Come talk to me a bit?” Tara cocked her head, looking at Willow with the same mixture of shyness and wisdom that had drawn her in, in the beginning.

The beginning. Before Death and Resurrection. Before Willow’s spiral, before Glory and Dawn. When Willow was still broken on the inside from Oz. Back when things were good more often than bad, and L.A. wasn’t a giant crater teeming with every breed of demon from here to eternity. 

Willow shook her head, and attempted to puzzle out the woman’s sudden appearance. She sent a glance towards the men in the glade with her and Tara’s blue eyes softened slightly.

“I’m not a demon Willow. But they won’t wake. Not until they’re ready, or you are, either way.” She shrugged her shoulder slightly and moved into the sunlight, settling herself down next to Willow. 

Willow sat down quietly, but still shot the sleeping vampires several worried looks in the process. She didn’t care if they were safe, they were vampires! In Sunlight! How exactly was this, a good idea? If she could just move them into the shade she’d be much more comfortable. 

Immediately she heard a groaning sound as the trees that reached far above her head wound themselves closer together, leaving Willow and Tara in a tiny patch of sunlight that barely reached around the two women. 

“And if I wasn’t dreaming before, I am now..” Willow said out loud, her voice quiet but stern. 

Tara simply nodded in agreement. 

“So I take it I’m supposed to remember this dream. Although I take it they sent you so that I’d be more pliable to what they are asking?” Willow played with the grass as she spoke, not wanting to see Tara’s face. The woman’s presence was powerful enough, and she had questions that had to be answered before she could relax in her dead lover’s presence. 

“You might remember it. At least part of it will stay with you.” Tara’s voice was smooth and rhythmic, the words falling off of her tongue easily. “But no, they didn’t send me because you’d be more pliable. They asked me and I said yes.”

Willow was quiet for a moment, but in a sudden brash second she met Tara’s eyes head on. “I’m glad…” she licked her lips. “I missed you so much baby..” Tears formed in her eyes and splashed over her pale cheeks.

“I know sweet heart. But I had to go, it was my time. I’m sorry for the grief and the anger that you wrought out of it, but in the end without that we wouldn’t be here, now would we?” Tara’s voice was equal measures of concern and compassion, and as Willow’s eyes cleared she saw none of the anger or shame she’d feared in Tara’s eyes.

“So you’re happy about what happened then?”

Tara smiled wanly, and looked down for a moment before replying. “Not always. Willow if I could have stayed, I would have, you know that. But…it’s different for me. Wills, you have to let me go…stop carrying me around with you. You know…you know I’ll always be here, but its time to move forward again.”

Willow could feel tears brimming at her eyes, and blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. “Do you promise? Promise you’ll still keep an eye?” She sniffled and tried vainly to keep the tears at bay,

“Of course. But you have to understand Wills, this isn’t a message from me.” She looked skywards and pointed a slender finger in the same direction. “It’s from them. It’s to let go baby, I don’t need you anymore. But those two…” her gaze moved over to Spike and Angel’s sleeping forms. “They’ll need you more than you know. Or they do really” She added quietly. “You’re here because the powers brought you here. All of you. There are things to be dealt with, and they decided on their favorite chosen heroes.”

“I’m no hero.” Willow stated, her voice inflectionless.

“That’s not how they see it. You worked with buffy, restored Angel’s soul, did your best without ever being chosen and rose to it.”

“I also went on a black magic bender, flayed a man alive, hurt my best friends, and nearly ended the world.” Willow added flatly. 

Tara didn’t respond at first, instead leveling her liquid dark eyes onto Willow. “Everyone makes mistakes Willow. Even Angel and Buffy. Even you. But that’s not the point. You told Buffy once you wanted to be part of this fight, and like it or not they heard you. Well, they say welcome back.” 

Tara leaned her face in, and gave the other woman a soft kiss on the forehead. As she did, Willow could feel her eyelids growing heavy and from somewhere in front of her she heard Tara’s voice murmuring softly.

“This was my gift as much as yours love. A way to say goodbye, and an apology for the years they stole from us. Be happy Willow…” And then she was gone, and Willow was charging once more through her dreams. 

**

 

When Willow woke, she couldn’t remember which. She had lingering dreams of a soft kiss on her forehead, and her chest felt lighter, but past that it was gone. She shook her head, and blinked her eyes to clear them. 

Around her she was sitting in a small glade. She was sitting on a thick patch of grass, and small bushes dotted the area. A small patch of vibrantly colored flowers bloomed just out of her reach. Beyond the grass, thick trees grew with winding vines and flowers covering them. 

The sun filtered softly down from above the canopy bathing Willow in warmth. The entire scene was like a 180 degree switch from what she’d seen upon her arrival in this dimension. She was wont to believe it was Xemphra what with the Dyrmen demons and all, but sadly she couldn’t remember a single snatch of information about the place. 

The witch rubbed at her eyes and began to stretch out her legs, her eyes wandering along the edge of the clearing. She grimaced as she began to pull twigs and other bits of debris out of her hair. After a few short minutes she stood and walked on stiff legs to the edge of the clearing. She didn’t want to leave. It was peaceful here. No need to worry about her traveling companions, they could probably do well for themselves without her. . .

Thinking about it for a moment Willow stopped at a tree at the edge of the clearing. Surely they could take care of themselves. Besides which, she was tired. She’d just sit down for a few minutes and surely they’d stumble upon her. 

Willow could feel a corner of her mind trying futilely to break through to her, but she ignored it. Before she could think further of the fact, the vines that held the bright blue and green flowers caught her attention. 

**

Spike stared at his sire in irritation. Angel was awake, and seemed fine, for all the time he’d spent chained to a spire yesterday. Spike was less fine. He still couldn’t move far, or for long. The pike that had skewered him yesterday had been less than 3 inches from his heart. The vampire was still astounded that it hadn’t managed to kill him.

He’d managed to get most of the splinters out yesterday in between Willow killing all the demons and spiriting the three of them into the middle of a forest in who-knew-where. He and Angel had inspected the wound this morning, and while it seemed to be healing well, it was still sore.

A sore the size of a child’s fist, that resided next to his heart. So yes, he’d been having some issues going for longer than a few minutes. However, that didn’t excuse his poof of a sire turning into a puppy that wallowed in guilty for the five or ten minutes they needed to stop. Angel was convinced that Willow had burnt herself up in moving them, been overwhelmed by the magic and died.

Spike was less enthusiastic than his masochistic maker. He figured Red was just off sleeping the effects on her body. When she woke up, she’d find them. Or, in their haphazard trail across the forest they’d find her. It generally worked that way. 

“-I mean what am I? Human I just let-“ Spike interrupted Angel’s rant to himself with a firmly printed boot to the back of his head. Angel fell forward a few feet, skidded on his oversize forehead and came to a sputtering stop several feet away.

“What was that for!?” He sputtered out indignantly.

“That’s for being a pessimistic wanker when Red is still out there somewhere.”

“We don’t even know she’s alive.” Angel said sorrowfully.

“You” Spike began, each word carefully bitten out from between clenched teeth. “Are. A. Pratt. Now I’m off to find Red, if you’re done mourning your inability to be chosen, then you should come with me” Spike carefully lowered himself out of the tree branch he’d been sitting in and marched off, albeit slowly, into the woods. He didn’t have to look to see if Angel was following him, he could hear the broody pillock even when he was being quiet.

**

Wesley, Illyria, a small handful of new slayers, and Faith all wandered aimlessly through the forest. They’d been here for several days, and though they hadn’t crossed their own paths yet-Wesley had been instructing the Slayers to crosshatch every third or fourth tree they crossed as markers-that didn’t mean they weren’t traveling in circles. 

The Slayers chatted amongst themselves, Faith and Wesley attempted to keep up a dialogue, but it had been lacking thus far. It wasn’t just the fact that neither of them were completely at ease without Angel’s presence to mitigate their circumstances. 

Half the time, they were watching Illyria, or Fred. Wesley took another deep breath to calm his over extended nerves as he watched the god/physicist meander in front of him. When they’d landed some 3 days ago now, He had been separated from Illyria. Faith and about 3 of the Slayers had found him.

The five of them had been separated from the other 4 slayers, and Illyria for most of that first day. At dusk, their fire had been seen, and the last 5 of their party had wandered in. The difference however, was that Illyria had been wearing Fred’s guise again. When they’d walked into the firelight, and her soft eyes had met his, Wesley had simply looked past Illyria. A habit that had become frighteningly easy after Fred’s death. 

“Put that mask away Illyria, you know I do not abiding lying when it is unnecessary.”

“Lying? Wesley what are you talking about? It’s me! Fred.”

Wesley had withdrawn after that, leaving Faith to deal with Illyria. The next morning she had seemed herself, but sporadically would fade back into Fred. Illyria was conscious of what was happening, and everything that had happened up until this point. Fred was not. Her last memories seemed to be of the day before her accident. 

The day they’d kissed. 

Wesley wasn’t sure what was happening. Neither was Faith. They knew they were somewhere in a supposed hell dimension. They didn’t know which or how hostile it might be outside this forest. They didn’t know if Angel, Spike, or Willow had survived the fall. And they sure as hell didn’t know what was going on with Illyria. 

As the light began to grow dim, Faith called a halt to their hike and began to make camp. Slayers ranged out in the woods for fire, as well as small game to eat for dinner. Illyria, Wesley and Faith stayed and pitched camp. The slayers had come well equipped with small survival packs. They had enough blankets for everyone assembled, as well as a few chipped pots, and emergency rations. They’d already gone through most of the purified water.

Not long after, the younger slayers returned. Most of them had wood, enough to last them until morning, although a handful of others brought rabbits and several small birds to be cooked. Wesley helped to build the fire and skin the animals. He ate the meat kabobs they’d affixed to small wooden stakes, and then fell asleep. 

Tonight, like every other night since they’d fallen back in with Illyria, he kept his distance as best he could.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith tells a story, and there is an arrival.

Faith stretched out languidly in the late afternoon light. She stretched, her face relaxed as the stiffness in her muscles began to ebb and fade away. As she reopened her eyes and blinked, the world came rushing back in stereo. 

Next to her a small creek ran swiftly down hill, chattering quietly as it bounced off of rocks and pebbles. On her right, further into the shade, she could see a handful of Slayers their conversation little more than soft murmurs.

She sighed and sat up, relishing the warmth of the sun on her face before standing up and heading over towards the other Slayers. They were almost a dozen them between the girls here with Faith, and back at their base camp. Along with the Slayers, there were the remnants of Angel’s crew; Wesley, Gunn and Illyria.

Spike, Angel and Willow were all MIA. It had been almost 4 days now since they’d been sucked into the dimension, and there had been no way to determine where they were or if their three missing members were even alive or dead.

As she neared the 4 girls that had come down to the creek with her, they all jumped to their feet, eyes serious.

“Hey now guys, no need to jump up. Don’t think we’re headed away in a rush.”

The girls settled back down on the grass they’d been inhabiting before Faith had woken from her nap. As they did, Faith matched each of their faces to their names. The furthest from Faith was Kira. She was tall, slender and pale skinned with green eyes and short red hair. Kira was Faith’s second in command; she’d been fighting years before any of the other girls.

Next to Kira was Bella. Bella was a touch more tan than Kira, though it went unnoticed for the most part. She had a long sheet of black hair tied back in a tight braid that accentuated her dark blue eyes. A pale scar came across the bridge of her nose and over onto her right cheek.

Across from Bella was Sable. Sable’s parents had been American Indian and it showed. Her thick black hair was divided into dozens of small braids, with bits of feathers and other bits and pieces braided in. Her skin was a dark brown-gold, and her eyes were a dark brown. Across her left cheek Sable had an angular scar that widened as it neared her cheek and showed skin a shade paler than the rest of her skin.

Last was Ghost. Ghost was a small tanned woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. A thick band of scar tissues ran from the bottom of her left ear along her neck and over her collarbone. They had started calling her Ghost because she was so damn quiet on patrol. Later the nickname had stuck when she’d coded in their medical unit, and then come back 8 minutes later.

The four women looked back up at faith with a variety of expressions in their eyes. Faith could read each of them like a book. Kira might have been her second in command, but all four of the girls were the Slayers that had survived the longest and proven their trust to Faith.

She sat bonelessly, half collapsing onto the warm grass and enjoying the feel on her skin for a moment before she looked back at the others. She was 22, almost 23. Of the other four girls, not a one had passed their 21st birthday yet.

“Well,” she started quietly “We all know Wesley’s been asking questions. Our plan was, to regroup with Willow and have her explain everything to all of them at the same time. She’s the one who mojo’d us here so that’d be easiest. But we haven’t seen her. Truth is, she might be dead.”

“She might be lost too.” Bella pointed out reasonably.

“Whatever the case.” Faith replied. “I can’t hold Wes off much longer. He knows me well enough he can tell something’s up. When we go back to camp, I’m getting’ all of us together and we’re explaining it. If Willow gets back, and has the boys with her she can explain it again then. Any issues?

Three solemn faces and one slightly scrunched one returned her gaze. “What if he disbelieves us?” Sable asked dark eyes thoughtful. “It wouldn’t be unheard of for him to attack us or some such. And we can’t afford for anything to happen to him if we’ve presumably lost the others.”

Faith looked directly at her. “We have 12 slayers against a few humans?”

“And a former Hell God.” Bella added.

Faith blinked.

“Point taken. Well if that’s the case we’ll figure it out. But I’m pretty sure I can convince Wes of what’s going on. Besides, without Willow he’d be dead now and he knows it. He owes us.”

\--

Faith watched from her perch on an over turned log as the four girls she’s spoken to at the creek dispersed out and through the rest of their camp. She’d told them to inform the other Slayers of what was going on, and what might go wrong. As the other girls were informed, many of them began to finish their tasks and move over towards Faith.

In almost no time, the girls were seated and perched around Faith, all of them on the ground or leaning against the log. Ghost, Kira, Bella and Sable were ranged behind Faith standing quietly. A few more minutes began to pass before she saw Wes, Illyria and Gunn walking towards them. Illyriawalked in front of the two men by a few paces, her staring blue eyes flitting from one thing to the next at increasing speeds. Wesley walked on her left, several paces back with Gunn in between himself and Illyria.

The three of them reached the small clearing and stood watching Faith, their expressions neutral.

“Okay Wes, I know you’ve got questions. And you’re right, I’ve been holding out. But it’s five by five; I got all your answers now.”

“Do you now?” Wesley asked his voice quiet.

“Well, you ask, and if I have an answer I’ll give it. But tell ya what. I’ll sit here, and explain things as well as I can, and if you’re confused when I’m done then ask your questions.”

“Why?” He asked again.

“Well…” Faith drawled off, thinking. “Wasn’t supposed to be me doin’ this. Willow was gonna lay it all out for you guys. But she’s not here, and far as I know she could be dead. That leaves me with her job, and my job. Hers was to tell the story. So listen up, and maybe it’ll work out.”

Wesley nodded and then settled himself down on the grass behind the Slayers. Gunn followed suit. Illyria continued to wander after a bit of this and a bit of that for a moment before turning to look at Faith.

“I will listen while I investigate these things.”

“All right, you don’t hear the story it’s your loss.”

Illyria blinked, and in the course of that blink her body lost its stiffness melting into Fred’s form. “Are you gonna tell a fairy tale? Those were always my favorites.”

Faith blinked once and looked over at Wesley who had grown stiff. Their eyes met for a moment and he discreetly shook his head. Faith shrugged. If he wanted her to drop it, it was whatever.

“My name is Faith Lehane, which all of you know. Obviously. What you don’t know, is that I’m not exactly your Faith. In the world I lived in, Los Angeles fell.” She looked at Wesley. “All of you died. You, Gunn, Angel, Spike. I think Illyria lasted a few weeks, but even she went down. It opened a portal, andL.A. became a cesspool of demonic activity. “

“It started to seep outwards and in a matter of months it was Hell on Earth. We fought it off. Hell, we had an army of Slayers thanks to Willow and Buffy. “Faith paused for a moment remembering the weeks after it had started to get bad before continuing.

“It wasn’t enough. More shit just kept crawling out. For a while we were making stands wherever it was well secured. We worked outside of the military, but they didn’t give us shit while we did their jobs.”

“Then we had a call in Arizona…”

\---

“Where are they!?” Buffy’s voice was scratchy and too small coming from the small walkie talkie Faith had attached to her hip.

\--  
‘B had an advance squad. They went into Burne-that was the name of the town-first. We were supposed to follow on her orders.’  
\--

Faith held a hand up over her eyes to help with the glare. Before her on a low flat plane was the town of Burne Arizona. It’d been 4 months since Wolfram and Hart’s showdown inL.A., neither Angel nor his crew had survived. Since then they’d been playing cleanup. With an Army of Slayers they could at least try to hold off what was happening.

The younger girls hadn’t understood what was going on. At first it had been just another battle. But Faith knew. Buffy knew. Everyone still fighting out of the old Sunnydale crew understood implicitly. The battle lines had been drawn, and this time they hadn’t stopped the Apocalypse. It was here and it was gaining ground at a ridiculous rate.

The sky here was a dense red-orange that hung ominously over the town. Faith hadn’t made contact with anything of a less than human nature. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t here. Her spidey sense was tingling enough that she could barely stand still.

But this was B’s op, not Faith’s. That meant that until she gave the signal, Faith and her squad would stay where they were. It was supposed to minimalise their casualty and injury risk. It felt like a trap. But B wouldn’t listen when Faith had tried to tell her as much.

So here she was standing on the outside of a supposedly overrun town. It didn’t look overrun. People smiled and walked from place to place, businesses were open. There were no furtive looks. Hell, even the occult shop in town had more ‘New Age’ BS than anything you could use to do so much as a locator spell.

Faith looked over her shoulder, eyeing up the girls in her squad. She had 6 girls. She knew none of them. Their faces seemed to melt into one another, nameless, faceless soldiers. She shook her head, trying to dissipate the pessimism that was clouded over her.

The town was run of the mill, nothing special to look at, nothing to pick it apart from any other Podunk little town across America. Hell, they didn’t even have a Wal-Mart within 20 minutes in any given direction. The buildings were small squat, and brown or covered in enough of the reddish dirt in this state, that they appeared brown.

The sun was beginning to set, the sun blazing red over the horizon. It painted the world in hues of red and gold, sending shadows stretching across the length of the town. Faith looked at the girls behind her again, trying to gauge them. Which would freeze? Which would throw themselves into this fight with no concern for themselves? Which would survive?

\--  
“I didn’t like the look of the op from the beginning. My spidey sense was goin’ off, but B wouldn’t listen. We’d gotten a tip and people could die. It was our job to help them. Our destiny. I didn’t exactly disagree but I didn’t like it.

B had me and my squad set up on this little mound of dirt that passed for a hill in Arizona. We were to keep in contact with her, and if she made contact we’d come in. We were the cavalry.

So we did. I waited on that hill watching the town from where we were standing. You wouldn’ta known somethin’ was gonna go down. It looked normal. A nice little slice of the American dream.

I had 4 girls with me. All of ‘em pretty young still. I don’t think I knew any of their names. It wasn’t weird for us, ya know? I mean, all the potentials in the world had just woken up to their power. I don’t even know if any of ‘em had been battle tested yet.

It was all goin’ good for a while. Me and my squad were waiting for the talkie to tell us to move in, and the town seemed fine. Hell, B couldn’t find shit all day long. So we just kept waitin’ on our post, waitin’ for B to either make contact or tell us to regroup.

Then the sun went down.”  
\--

Faith watched as the last remnants of the sun finally faded behind the horizon. It left the world in a wash of greys that bleached the color even from Arizona’s picturesque landscape.

“I’ve got something Faith. Bring your girls in quiet and fast, at the least I’ve got a nest. I’m at the cemetery on the North side of town.”

Faith pulled the walkie from her waistband and responded, dark eyes squinting against the darkness at the town in front of her.

“On our way B. Don’t get stupid on me now.” She replaced the talkie and motioned to the girls behind her. She started out at a quick trot, and as she went over the small hill and down towards the town picked up velocity. Soon Faith was at a full run, with the girls running a few paces behind.

\--  
“We got a ring from B after the sun was barely down. She hadn’t made actual contact yet, but she was closin’ in on a nest and wanted me and mine there. So we headed in.

The town was quiet, and I mean fuckin’ silent. There were lights on in the houses, but nobody out on the street. Nothin’ was open. Not for food, not for drinks, nothin’.

B had told me she was at the cemetery on the North side of Burne. We were comin’ in from the south, but we were comin’ in fast.

Just in case, ya know?”  
\--

They darted through abandoned streets, all of them running for their worth. Faith barely noticed as streets slid past in a blur of shadows and brick. What she did notice was that no one was on the street.

As they passed through residential streets, there were no open doors. The windows were all covered in a variety of curtains, the only light from inside the houses filtering around their borders.

No one was on the street. Not a single straggler or bum to be found anywhere between the southern border of the town and the city hall, which they’d be passing in another moment or two.

Faith gradual slowed her run until she was moving at nothing more than a brisk walk. Behind her, the younger Slayers slowed their run as well. They allowed Faith to stay on point, but fanned out diagonally to her left and right.

She slowed from her walk until she was completely stopped. She stood in the middle of a 4 way intersection, a lazily turning traffic light blinking above her head. Faith peered down the streets that met here, looking for something, she wasn’t sure what.

The girls closed ranks with Faith, turning so they were all pinned up, back to back in a rough circle. Bunched in a loose circle, they moved outward a few scant steps. It left enough room between them that there wan room to maneuver and fight, but close enough that they couldn’t be snuck up on, or slipped past.

Satisfied with their stance, Faith took a moment to peer more carefully down each of the streets. The street lights were all well maintained and set at regular intervals, their light illuminated the sidewalks, streets and fronts of the buildings.

The sidewalks were all pale and unbroken. The streets held the perfect smooth darkness of new asphalt. The store fronts gleamed, bright letters and shop displays alike coming alive somehow in the darkness.

None of the storefronts had left any lights on. No security devices blinked in red or blue from inside the buildings. Not a single one, had bars or gates over the doors. Having grown up in Boston, seeing a town without anyone out after dark was positively creepy. Seeing plenty of fully equipped offices without so much as a gate over the door was like walking into the twilight zone.

Burne was like a ghost town. It was the middle of summer, and there were no children on the streets. No windows or doors opened. Not a single establishment with so much as its lights on where they’d be easy to spot.

Faith stepped out and away from the circle of Slayers. She was glad to see that they close in over her place and resumed their stance without having to say anything. At least they were remembering their training. She continued looking around, as though something would jump out at her. A clue, perhaps a reason.

As she continued looking, tension began to build between her shoulder blades. She’d have sworn someone was watching her. Her senses continued to intensify. Everything she saw came into sharper focus, she could read signs that were half a block away. Her palms itched, wanting something to hold, to attack with.

The silence was deafening.

Whatever it was, it kicked her Slayer senses into high gear. Muscles tensed with anticipation of battle. She could taste whatever this thing was as it came closer and closer. She continued to feign interest in nothing, keeping track of it as it moved closer yet. At the final moment she turned on her heel, expecting to see a vampire or some type of demon.

Instead there was nothing. She frowned, suddenly far more uneasy than she had been in the daylight. There was no one. Her dark eyes scanned over the streets looking for alley ways and shop fronts someone could hide in. They searched over the unevenly matched roofs of homes and businesses alike.

There was nothing she could see or feel. And although she could still feel something flowing through her senses, there was no way to tell where it was. Or what it was. But still, her Slayer senses continued to beat through her pulse. Danger! Danger! Danger! A repetitive beat that screamed through her blood keeping her on edge as the adrenaline pumped through her veins.

Faith turned, shooting one last glance over her shoulder hoping someone would show themselves as she turned her back. No luck. Not that she’d thought to be lucky. Luck was not in her cards. Looking into the faces of the Slayers in front of her, Faith remembered their objective.

It wasn’t just that B needed the backup. Hell. Who knew what was lurking in this tiny little town. Two months ago, they’d have sent in one team to sweep it and be done. But now, with Wolfram and Hart opening the door to Hell in the middle ofL.A., well it made things slightly more difficult.

Faith shook her head and motioned to the girls with her. All of them started back off at a jog, smoothly accelerating back into a full run. This time Faith paid no mind to the darkened storefronts and houses.

\--  
“I wasn’t sure what was up with the city, but it had me spooked. So we booked it up to the cemetery. B had made contact with a nest. Hell when she radio’d me she was calling in advance, she hadn’t even made contact.

But whatever was there it was waiting.”

\--

Faith and the other Slayers rounder the wide gate that served as the entrance to Burne’s cemetery and stopped short. Ahead of them, there were vampires and demons everywhere. Buffy stood on top of a crypt, swinging the scythe. It was chaos. 

Faith took her squad and slammed into the demons from behind. Vampires were quickly dealt with, their ashes floating through the turrets of wind created by fists and feet alike. They managed to punch through the enemy’s back line, forcing them to regroup to either side and letting the Slayers that had been in the middle of everything regroup themselves.

Buffy jumped down lightly from the crypt, watching as close to a dozen of the variant demons fled behind mausoleum’s and tombstones.

“So what’s the deal B?”

“I don’t know” Buffy’s voice was tired, and her face was haggard. “I’m here all day and there’s nothing. The sun goes down, nobody on the streets. I mean not even a vampire?” She sighed and ran a hand over her mussed ponytail. “So Kennedy and I took in separate teams. Her from the North, me from the South. They were waiting for us.”

\--  
B and Kennedy had both gone into the cemetery right after dark. Do a quick patrol ya know? Two teams with five slayers a piece, it shoulda been a piece of cake.

All kindsa shit was waitin’ for ‘em. Three of B’s girls, not countin’ blondie herself survived. Only Kira survived from Kennedy’s. We got a call into Giles and got the hell outta dodge while we were able.

\--

Faith looked Wesley dead in the eye. “And that was just the beginning. The first year, hell! The first six months. It got worse, and we had no way to fight it. There were demons everywhere. We had Slayer HQ set up anywhere we could, old bunkers, coupla castles, anything really.”

“Our numbers just kept getting smaller. I mean yeah, we had potentials wake up every day. But then we had to find them, to train them, to hope they survived…” Faith paused and looked down at her hands.

“It got to a point where there weren’t many of us left. Buffy died four years after the opening, and maybe one out of every ten girls survived the first year. It was battle after battle, knowing that the end is just creeping up faster.”

“And it all stemmed from the first portal. When Wolfram and Hart opened up that door they let somebody old out. Somebody who isn’t supposed to play in our realm anymore. An’ he nearly destroyed it.”

“Eight years. Eight years we fought, and moved, and buried our dead. And then we realized how futile it was. It was just Me and Willow left from the gang. Hell, Kira here-“ he jerked a thumb behind her to make a point-“was the only other survivor left from Burne” Faith’s voice got quieter.

“They were closing in. We were about it, the last resistance.Willow was going through the last of our scrolls and books. The only ones we’d managed to save during everything. She found a spell that would send her back, any of us alive then and now could be sent back…”

\--

Faith watched as Willow poured through the old books. They were holed up in an old church somewhere in Virginia. It was a Catholic church, full with stained windows, wooden pews, and a library full of arcane literature.

Bet the parisioners didn’t know about that one. Not that it mattered considering they were all dead, fugitives, or somewhere on the market as slaves or breeders. The church gave them a little respite from the Hell that was outside. It was still holy ground for the moment.

Outside of the churchyard’s borders, the demons waited. Dozens of them, in sizes and shapes that defied human perspective. Faith wished for the good old days with vampires and the other half breeds that had dominated Earth. Gotta miss being able to wander through a cemetery without dying.

She shook her head and looked back at Willow. “You said you found something?”

“I think so.” Willow looked up, her dark eyes surrounded by dark circles. “We can only volunteer for this, and only if we have a damn good reason. We’re going to petition the Powers that Be.”

Faith’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy!? What, are we asking for a pony too?”

“No.” Willow’s voice was quiet. “I am going to petition them to send you, myself, and the rest of the Slayers back to our bodies in the months before the portal opens. We’re going to change what happens. We’re going to stop this.”

“How are we gonna do that Willow? I mean what could stop…” Faith trailed off, eyes growing wide. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

“If by that you mean that I am going to petition and damn well bully the Powers into sending us back so that we can stop this portal, and save Angel and his crew, then yes. If not, then I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about.” Willowcracked a small smile and ran a hand through short red hair.

“What will essentially happen is that our conciousness is going to be sent back. We’ll retain all of our memories of what’s happened here. Some characteristics, like scars will carry over to our bodies. But the bodies themselves will be unharmed.”

“So what’s the catch then?” Faith could feel a foreign emotion running under her skin making her heart pound. Hope.

“Generally?” Willow asked. “The trick is talking the Powers into it. But they owe me favors anyway-don’t ask, I’m not telling. Besides which, we’re bringing back at least two of their champions. That and because if I have to do this on my lonesome, they won’t like what I do.”

“Anything else?”

“A few things. Get the Slayers together and we’ll all go over it. I’m not leaving anyone behind if I can help it.

\--  
So I did. The church we were stayin’ in was mad old. It had a big wide room upstairs with beds. I thinks it’s where the nuns probably stayed before a house was attached. In any case I rounded everybody up.

There were maybe 30 people all together. All the Slayers plusWillow. No other Watchers or ortherwise were still alive and with us. Alive maybe, but not with us. We all sat down in the main hall, sitting in pews and on the floor, and Willow sat on the stairs at the head of everything.  
\--

Faith stood leaning against on the support beams in the main room. She hadn’t been in a Catholic church in a long long time. Probably not since Uncle Joe had brought her back when her mother had dropped her off so she could go out to drink guilt free.

The windows were tall and stained. Pictures from the bible of the virgin Mary and John the Baptist filled them. Faith was just glad she couldn’t see the hordes of things that wanted to eat her though them. She was as tough as any of the women here, but it could still stick a knot of fear deep in her stomach. Dead was dead, and she was hoping to go later rather than sooner.

Willow stood up, and Faith took notice, concentrating on the Witch rather than her own morose thought process.

“Hey guys. As all of you know-or should anyway-I’ve been looking for weapons. For ways for us to fight back. And I’ve got good and bad news. I did find something like a weapon, but not like you’d think.

I-It’s a way to send our thoughts and memories and experiences, back to us 8 years ago. We’d be back to ourselves before Las Angeles got eaten by the demons.” Immediately talk began to burst from the Slayers. “Okay. Okay!” she yelled trying to get them to quiet down. “I know only like..half of you will have been 16 at that time. And there is a way to make sure you come back as a Slayer, but you have to trust me.

If you do, we can fix this. Maybe we can save the world…”

\--  
Willow talked the Slayers into it. Not too hard considering our odds. Hell, at worst we’d go back to before with full tactical understanding of what we’d be up against. Most of the girls wouldn’t know exactly what was going on.

That was fine. I’d know, Willow would know, and our generals, these four behind me would know. Considering we’re the last of a once strong army, we didn’t put too much thought in it.

But in case something went wrong, Willow told me as much as she could.  
\--

Faith walked down the stairs into the chilly basement of the church. Willow was sitting at an old wooden table. A much abused leather notebook was open and filled with her writing. In front of her she had several more books open and was reading from one while she took notes on another sheet of paper.

The Slayer remembered a time when she’d dislikes Willow, and vice versa. They had been rivals for Buffy’s affections, best friend and sister Slayer. With Buffy gone now four years they’d bonded in a way. Over survival and the wellbeing of the Slayers that came after them.

“You said you wanted to talk to me Willow?” Faith’s voice seemed to echo through the cavernous basement, escaping pastWillow into shadows.

“Yeah, there’s some stuff I need to go over with you. You have to understand what’s going on. I can’t risk being the only one who understands.”

“You know I’m no good with the mojo Will, you know that. I can’t tell chicken feet from..dried sage!?” Willow gave her a look. “You know what I mean. What about Sable? Or Alice? They’re both on the up and up with this shit. I’m on the up with training or how to kill a demon when you are completely outclassed.”

Willow smiled and beckoned to Faith.

“All right, all right, I’m comin’.” Faith scuffed her stolen Wal-Mart sneakers on the stone cellar floor as she walked over toWillow and took a seat.

“I’m not going to explain the arcane bits to you.” She explained. “Because I already have spoken to Sable and Alice. But Wes and the group won’t trust anyone but you and I, because they’ve only met you and I. If we can I’ll explain, but if not it’s up to you.”

Faith met Willow’s eyes with concern, but continued listening. It was a first.

“I will end up on the astral plane and I will ask a boon of the Powers. It’ll involve a lot of posturing and a possibility of bribing or threatening them, but we’ll be transported to our bodies at some point before the portal opens.”

Willow flipped through the pages of her journal, index finger tracing over the carefully formed words.

“When we wake up, meet up in Santa Monica. We’ll move in to L.A. from there. I’ve got some information on what happened. If anything happens, remember that for about a week my power isn’t going to be at its normal strength. My body will have what it can tap, and I’ve got a hefty little reservoir now, but this spell is gonna be tiring.” She paused. “Especially if things get tricky.” She murmured under her breath.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, smacking herself open palmed on her forehead as she did so. “All of us won’t wake up.”

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Slayers are called at 16, right?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Well, 8 years back not all of these girls were old enough yet. The only ones coming with us will be 18 and on up. That’s still more than half…but you should know.”

Faith nodded her agreement before responding. “Okay, so we’ll wake up, 8 years ago..ish. Take your old and improved bodies and meet you in Santa Monica. What then? I mean yeah, we’re a well trained group of Slayers…but you and I both know what comes crawling out of that pit once its been opened.”

“You’re right.” Willow agreed quietly. “What’s going to happen, is that I’m going to open a portal to another dimension. It’ll suck the demon army in. We-and by that I means all of Angel’s people, and all of ours-are going to be inside a barrier spell. I don’t know how powerful the portal will be, but theres a chance we’ll get pulled in too.”

“How will we deal with that?”

“It’s a long shot, but its all dependent upon our timing. If we’re lucky, we’ll get there early enough to pull them all out of the city before it opens. Then we’ll be safe. If not, we’ll just roll with the punches.” Willow stopped and double checked something between the book and the journal for a moment before putting both down and surrendering Faith her full attention. “But I need you with me on this 100% Faith. If something happens to me..”

“Nothing is going to happen to you.” Faith was surprised at how fierce her voice was.

“I said if, trust me I’m not willing to go out either. These girls look to both of us to keep them safe. And going back, if anything happens to me, you’re their only hope.”

Faith looked at Willow for a moment before answering. “If anything happens to you, I’ll take care of them. But I’ll also take care of whatever does you in. We all take care of each other, don’t you forget that now.”

\--  
Willow did the spell in the sleeping area upstairs. She did it as we were all goin’ to bed-except for the girls on watch of course. When I woke up, I was back here and it seemed like an incredibly vivid dream.

We met up in Santa Monica. Only the girls over 18 got their memories back. We met up, and waited as long as we could for any stragglers before heading in to you lot. Willow transported straight into Wes, we took dealing with straggling demons on the streets and Gunn.

You know the rest.  
\--

Faith finally finished her story and licked her lips. Her throat was dry from the telling, and she wished it could have come from Willow. She met Wesley’s eyes, and watched as he removed his glasses and cleaned them before replacing them on his face.

“That’s quite the tale.”

Faith sighed. “Well it’s the truth, take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it. I’ve heard of such a spell, though the power it takes is considerable. But what we need now is Willow.”

“I don’t know Wes.” She licked her lips again. “I mean, for all we know she could be dead and we’re startin’ to run short on supplies.” Before Faith could continue Ghost leaned forward and spoke into her ear.

“We’ve got incoming. Two, vampires I think, and they’re comin’ in quick from behind us.” Her voice was quiet but firm, and brooked no nonsense.

Faith stood from her perch and spun on her heel, smiling as the other Slayers followed her lead. She looked down for a moment to pull out a stake, and when she looked up a small glowing orb whizzed past her head, spinning in mid-air to miss her forehead.

She frowned and looked after it, and then back to the trees and bushes that made up the impromptu back wall of their apparent meeting place. A moment later Spike and Angel burst through the tree line.

Both skidded to an unruly stop their hands in the air. No one moved. Faith could hear her heart stuttering in her chest.

“Don’t move girls. It’s our heroes.” She smiled for a moment, before realizing Willow was not following them. “Please tell me Willow is alive and with you.” She said, her voice quiet.

“No such luck mate.” Spike responded. “But if we follow Glinda’s guide there, maybe we can get to her before she dies.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith, Spike, Angel and the Slayers attempt to find Willow.

“Might die?” Faith could hear the strain in her voice as she spoke. “As in, not dead yet?”

“Yes well, s’a bit of a time pressed issue.” Spike replied testily.

Faith looked at Spike, eyes searching for an answer that was not forthcoming. She continued to watch him, eyes riveting him in place as she began to speak.

“Kira and Ghost, stay back and divide Emily, Lux, Myra and Alejah amongst the two of you. Break down camp, and help Wes, Gunn and-“she glanced at Illyria, still wearing Fred’s guise for a half second-“..Fred with anything they need.” Kira and Ghost both nodded from their places to either side of the vampires, but did not move. 

The other 4 Slayers Faith had called melted away from her back. They were already heading into camp to break things down, and pack them up. Each of them carried a knapsack with a variety of items inside.

The packs had been assembled in Santa Monica while they waited for the willing Slayers to arrive so they could head into Las Angeles. They were first and foremost survival packs. They hadn’t been so lucky the first time around, and with a bit of advance warning, and the council’s deep pockets, Willow had put them together with ease. 

Inside was a bit of everything from sleeping rolls and small tarps, to purified water and dehydrated meals. The Slayers would assemble the packs as each portion of camp was broken down. Each pack had an inventory list-courtesy of Willow’s continued neurosis-which made sure that nothing went missing or was left behind. 

While the younger, and less experienced Slayers did the easy grunt work, Kira and Ghost would make sure that only minimal traces of their presence was left behind. Years of being on the run from all ilk of demonic variety had left them all with a bit more survival technique than was probably healthy. Then again, that was probably one of the few reasons-combined with sheer luck-that they were even alive. Faith shrugged at the thought and continued.

“Bella and Sable; grab Alice, Adrian, Shay and Caira; no packs, full battle getup. Be back in four minutes.” Both women in front of Faith nodded, before taking off at a steady trot. Behind her, Faith heard the whisper of cloth on skin as the rest of the Slayers behind her melted off to get dressed. 

They would change into full battle gear, also obtained by the council’s deep pockets and considerable resources. Their gloves were thin leather, with steel plates sewn over the fingers and hand. Thick, high, waterproof boots protected them to mid-calf. Leather guards on their arms and legs; A segmented piece of leather for their torso. 

That was their new dress. Faith and Willow had discussed using the Kevlar type armor that was just as easily available, but if things went bad it’d be difficult if not impossible to fix or replace. You could always kill more cows for leather. 

Faith already wore her own suit, dyed black and form fitting. It was bulkier than she was used to, but Slayer healing didn’t protect you from everything. Better to be a quarter second slower with more protection, than just a smudge faster and end up with a broken back when you come down on a headstone wrong. 

On top of the new armor there was also the upgraded weaponry. Cross necklace, steel, iron, and silver weapons. Leather gripped stakes; the works. Willow had done her homework before the spell, and it had only taken her a few hours to get enough equipment together to guard all of them. Each Slayer was encouraged to keep at least two different weapons with them at all times. It was a chaotic assortment of axes, short swords, long swords, knives and more. 

Faith looked back at Kira and Ghost before continuing. “Double packs for all of ours. If Fred fades again, see if Illyria can be convinced. We’ll leave a trail, but give us about a 15 minute lead.” Faith paused for a moment, brain moving too fast for her liking, too much time around Willow probably. “Tell them to gear up and be on guard. We don’t know what we’re walking in to.”

She turned and looked back to Wes, Gunn and Fred. “Pack up camp, we’re playing rescue. My girls’ll help with anything you need, and they won’t move out until you’re all ready.”   
Wesley regarded her quietly, his dark eyes boring a hole through her. Faith stared him down for a long moment before sighing. “You’ll get your answers Wes. Maybe we’ll luck out and Willow can explain the whole sha-bang herself.”

Faith turned back to the vampire again and fought the childish urge to spin in circles. “3 minutes and we are on our way boys.”

Much as it had in the alley, upon seeing them alive again, Faith’s leapt up and into her throat. Angel, Alive! She hadn’t considered the implications of this, not in depth at least. There had been too many other pressing matters to deal with, and pondering over her once mentor’s dead or undead status had seem too whimsical.

Whimsical? Did she really just use that word? Even in her head where no one else would ever know. Faith groaned silently. She had definitely spent too much time around Willow.   
Willow had explained there was a possibility that even if they managed to time the portal correctly and save L.A. from becoming the latest demonic spa and spawning grounds, those who had died previously might still do so. It will simply happen in a different manner. Faith hadn’t wanted to think about it. 

The brunette Slayer shook her head to dislodge the thought, and turned away from the two vampires without a word. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, unfamiliar after too many years of unmarked graves and lost battles. 

Wesley: Alive, Gunn: Alive, Spike: Alive, Angel: Alive. Illyria: Alive, although very definitely altered. Willow: assumably alive; so far, so good. Faith wasn’t positive what their next move after this would be, but she wasn’t focusing on it. Willow’s survival was the key to all of this. 

Faith knew the basics of course. What she needed to explain to everyone, the how’s and why for’s of what had happened and why they’d done what they had. Faith had spent 8 years learning new and more effective ways to kill things before they killed her. She had taken Buffy’s place after the blonde’s death. 

She was their leader. The one who was first into battle, and the last out. Everyone of the Slayers they had found looked to her for guidance. Looked to her to make the right choice, to show them the way. What a crock of shit that was. Faith wasn’t really any more into the loop than they had been. But she’d taken Buffy’s burden and done the best she could. Really, she’d gotten lucky. She’d had Willow there to help her.

Faith had been muscle, with the added benefit of Slayer strength and healing. She had done anything and everything to keep her girls safe. Willow had been their brains, and their magic. In 8 years there had only been 2 people who had ever worked with them who could channel magic. Both of them were little more than skin and bones in the dirt somewhere by the time the spell was cast. 

Faith had learned how to fight. Willow had spent years accumulating every offensive and defensive spell she could to add to their arsenal. As her power had grown, the amount of magic she’d learned had grown as well. 8 years of powerfully obtained magic and it was all contained inside a single vessel. 

Faith’s line of thought was broken when Bella and Sable came back at a run, the other 4 Slayers Faith had named just behind them. All 6 were decked out, and not a one was out of breath. Faith nodded at her generals before doing a cursory check of herself to make sure everything was in order. Then she turned back to Angel and Spike.   
“Lead on boys, we’ll follow.”  
\--  
Spiked loped after the Tinkerbell orb at a ground eating pace. It floated along steadily, showing no urgency, only a scant foot or two in front of the vampire. Angel and Faith were just behind him, with Faith’s Slayers ranged out somewhere further behind them. Spike didn’t know, and truth be told he didn’t care. 

What he did care about was finding Willow. The small red head had grown on him over the last several years, and whether she considered him a friend or not, he cared for her. Besides which, he owed her own. She’d saved his life, and Angel’s; he owed her. 

The trail they had begun to follow was nothing but dirt beat into a trail by the footfalls of someone who had come before them. It was wide enough for 3 to walk abreast, and was lined with high trees and small flowering bushes. Spike noted them distractedly, but couldn’t move himself to care about the greenery. They were after all, just plants. 

As they moved deeper into the woods, the trail began to narrow until it would have been difficult for 2 people to walk abreast if either of them were a large person. Along the trail, the vegetation had grown thicker too. Branches drooped low over the path, and in several places bushes obstructed portions of it. 

As the forest grew thicker, Spike could hear the sound of running water from a creek or stream nearby. As he noticed it, Tinkerbell swerved suddenly to the right and through a dense fern. 

 

Spike followed, brushing the ferns to the side to cross through it. On the other side, was another path, this one was smaller even than the one they’d been following previously. As spike continued along the new trail-albeit more cautiously than he had been moving-his nostrils flared. 

The pungent aroma’s assaulting his olfactory nerves were not pleasant. Decay and rot, along with the overpoweringly rich smell of vegetation. It smelled like death. And smelling death was never a good omen when you were in the middle of a rescue operation. 

Spike paused for a moment, trying to separate the odors. It wouldn’t be strange for the carcass of an animal to be rotting not far off the trail, but there was no scent of blood, or bowels that would come from such a thing. If anything, it was all natural. Manure, rotting plants, mold; it didn’t exactly reassure Spike. But at the same time, without the smells of true death, animal or human, there was still hope. 

Spike reopened his eyes, and searched immediately for Glinda’s guide. It still hung in the air in front of Spike, nearly motionless. However, only a second or two after Spike had found it again, it began to move sporadically. It bobbed up and down in the air twice, as though reassuring itself of Spike’s presence before zooming off in front of him.  
The vampire began to run, trying to keep up with it, and barely keeping it in sight. The trail curved downhill and to the left. The orb disappeared around the turn and when Spike rounded it he stopped short. A wall of thorn bushes, vines, ferns and other vegetation created a wall about 10 feet in front of him.

The orb was paused just in front of the wall, so close it was almost touching. It stopped in midair, not moving in any way. After several seconds it began to vibrate, pulsing. As it pulsed it started to become more tangible. Previously it had been a translucent ball of light. As it pulsed it began to erratically dart back and forth to the left and right. With each turn of direction it grew in size from that of a golf ball, to something roughly the size of a beach ball. 

It continued to pulse, now moving the orb in midair each time it did so. Threads the color of sunlight began to web across its, bulging like veins across its surface. Behind him he heard Faith mutter a command to her Slayers and then Angel and Faith were next to him.  
“What’s going on?” Angel’s voice was quiet but tense. 

“Not sure on that one mate. Tinkerbell here just decided to go a bit daft. Your guess is as good as mine.”

All three of them continued to watch the orb, transfixed by what was happening. The pulsing stopped, but the veins of light continued to throb. It rocked back towards Spike, Angel and Faith stopping about a foot in front of them. It hung there suspended for a moment, the only motion the periodic throb as its veins convulsed.   
Spike took one hand and gently moved it forward as though to touch it. In the instant before his finger made contact the orb pulsed again more strongly than before and zipped away from the three of them and into the wall of greenery. 

It hit the dense curtain of vines, brambles, thorns and bushes with a thunderous crash. It sent out a shockwave of air that made Spike half-stumble, with a shower of leaves and other loose detritus from the forest floor. From the point of its impact, small spider web thin strands of white light began to spread.   
It moved outward, until the entire wall was covered in thin strands of light. Then the light began to grow thicker, and as it did so more strands continued to fill in the wall. It created a cross hatched grid pattern made of nothing but light. As it grew larger, the light intensified until Spike and Angel were shielding their eyes.   
The light began to pulse slowly, increasing with every continued moment, until it was a steady rhythm. It pulsed once more, bright light not fading for a moment, and then disappeared. As the light faded, Spike returned his gaze to its former position and watched. Bright red-orange embers had replaced the shining light, quickly beginning to burn the wall of plant life.

It did not spread, and did not burn freely. Instead, the fire consumed the wall, without moving past the confines of the small trail they had been conversing. Within a minute the plants were nothing more than ash, gently falling to the forest floor like dirty snow flurries. As the plants burned up, the wall of light became visible again.   
It hung firm and translucent in the air, as though it had been there forever. For all Spike knew, it had. The vampire bent over and pulled a long slender branch off of a nearby tree, eyeing the grid suspiciously. 

“Hold back a sec mates.” He moved closer to the grid, stopping when he was about 3 feet away before casually tossing the stick through the magic. It passed through unharmed and bounced to the ground still within eyesight on the other side. Cautiously, he ran one hand over the surface off it, and when no retaliation was forthcoming, completely through it. 

There was no effect. No fire, no burning, no nothing.   
“Coast’s clear. Come along then.”  
\--  
They cleared the glowing grid work of magic without any issues, and continued along the trail. It widened up barely past the grid, and on either side of the trail vegetation as thick as the wall had been before Glinda got to it. 

As they moved forward, the stench of death, and decay grew stronger, until Spike’s eyes began to water. As he was about to call for a halt, they finished a wide sweeping turn. In front of them, the trail widened and turned into a large meadow. In the middle of it, there was a small hole in the trees that filtered down sunlight. 

Around the edges of the meadow small bushes sprouted multi colored berries. Whatever colors they might have started at, they were now the black, purple and green of bruises. Long past ripe, and dying slowly on the branch. 

It was clear that this is where the smell had been coming from. It hung over the meadow, poisoning the otherwise idyllic meadow with a menace that could not be pin pointed. Spike didn’t like it. Come to think of it, neither did Faith or Angel.

Spike listened as Angel and Faith spoke quietly behind him. His eyes were still searching over the grass, sliding past the mold that hung to trees like perverse Christmas garlands. As he did, he saw a small slumped form on the other side of the clearing. 

Spike moved his head to the side, trying to pierce the thick shadows to see if they were alive or dead. To see if they were Willow.   
“Red luv?” He spoke quietly, his voice a transfixing caress in the thick air. 

The figure moved, crawling on hands and knees to the edge of the light. It was Willow allright, but something was very, very wrong. Her arms and legs were covered with the mold, and her hair hung lank and greasy around her shoulders. She smiled at Spike, and it seemed less of a smile and more of a baring of teeth, and he could see the remnants of what might have once been berries over her teeth. Her eyes met his and they were fever bright, hard and somehow unhuman. 

Spike wasn’t sure what had happened here, but something was very clear.  
Willow was not all right.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow is found, but things aren't exactly looking up for our intrepid heroes.

Angel took a long look at Willow’s shadowed form before glancing back to see Faith. She stood, a fine tremor running through her muscles and horror in her eyes. “Faith.” His voice was soft but insistent in the wet air. One of the women standing behind her touched her shoulder softly and Faith jumped. 

“Take your girls and hold the trail for Wesley and the others. I’ll come up when we know better what is going on.”

She nodded jerkily and turned on her heels moving back the way that they had come. Angel turned and peered back into the shadows as though what he had seen had somehow been a mirage or his mind playing tricks on her. Sadly, it was not. Willow crouched in the shadows across from him, her green eyes feverishly bright and almost luminescent in the darkness. Thick wet smears of black and green were visible across one cheek, on her hands and her clothing. Her teeth were bared, in a mockery of her usual smile.

“Red luv.” Spike crooned, his voice a seductive murmur. “It’s Spike pet. You know me don’t you?” Her eyes darted between the two vampires before resting on Spike as he spoke. A mixture of wariness and curiosity dawned in her eyes, and she scrambled a few feet further towards them. 

“We met in Sunnydale. You know that, back with the Slayer and your whelp of a best friend.” She cocked her head and for a brief moment a glimmer of intelligence flashed followed by an equally brief shine of fear. It faded quickly back into the same strange fevered eyes he had seen initially and he reached out grabbing Spike shoulder in an iron fisted grip.

The smaller man’s muscles bunched up under his hand for a moment before relaxing, but Spike did not move or acknowledge Angel otherwise. “Why don’t you come closer pet? Are you all right?” Spike’s voice remained alluring as though he were trying to reel in Willow from the sound of his voice alone. Willow scampered forward another few hesitant steps before stopping at the very edge of the shadows that had been hiding her. 

Her gaze wavered from Spike, and she grimaced as though in pain. Angel wanted to start forward and find a way to help, but he knew that any sudden movement might startle her back into the shadows. She winced, her chin tucking into her neck and hiding her face for a moment and he could see fine tremors running along her limbs. She let out something between a moan and a cry and fell to her knees. 

When she looked up a moment later fresh tear tracks were tracing down her cheeks, and while her eyes were still too bright in the shade they were clear. She gasped and reached out a hand towards the vampires fear, knowledge and desperation blooming in her eyes.

“Help me, theres something here I don’t-“ Her voice was urgent and higher than usual, the words almost coming too fast to understand. “I don’t know how much time.” She winced and cried out again hugging her arms back to her body as it rocked violently. “He’s coming back, Revenshaum!” As she finished, a seizure took her flopping her body on the ground. 

It only lasted a brief moment, but it might as well have been forever. When she finally stopped, she scrambled back onto her hands and feet before unfurling to her full height. She leveled a cold furious stare at Angel before sweeping it over to Spike. “The girl is mine.” It was Willow’s voice, but much lower, and as cold as her stare. “You cannot have her back. Despair, for I am more than all of you.” She curled her lips into a cruel smile before turning and walking into the shadows and sitting by a tree not far away. Angel could see the silhouette of one arm raised and being turned from side to side as though the limb was strange and meant to be examined. 

His blood ran cold. He’d seen the same gesture in the past not so long ago. It had been when Illyria had taken Fred’s body and it was still new and strange to her. He tugged on Spike’s shoulder and though the younger vampire was as still as stone for a moment before he responded. The two of them backed away and turned for the path. They needed to speak to Faith and everyone else immediately. 

\--

Faith looked around the group and tried her best not to pummel her current frustrations out of one of the nearby trees. She’d taken her girls back to where the smaller path had split away leading to Willow. She’d been shaken, it was true. To see Willow like that! She shook her head trying to banish the thought trying instead to listen to the conversation going on around her. 

Angel and Spike had come back up the path and given Faith the short story of the big problem brewing with Willow. She’d responded by gathering her generals for the inevitable meeting to follow, and split the rest of the Slayers to the top and bottom of the paths to keep an eye out for wandering nasties.

It had ended up being Faith along with her 4 generals, Angel, Spike, Wesley, Gunn and Illyria. Thus far Illyria had spent more of her time investigating the various plant life that surrounded them than engaging in the heated discussion. Angel and Spike had managed to get Willow to respond but it had been frighteningly brief and when whatever had her had returned it had seemed far more in control than her previous actions.

It chilled Faith. She had seen horrible things after hell had opened, people taken over by things they couldn’t explain to do horrific damage to the world around them. Yet somehow the Slayers and their various fighting companions had more or less been immune from the worst of the horror. She’d wondered about it in the beginning and after several years of seeing the people around them fall to possession while they’d somehow escaped unscathed she’d asked Willow about it.

The way Willow had explained it, she cast a shield over their group depleting her own power to save them from the worst of the horrors they were exposed to day and night. Faith had wanted to argue somehow, but she hadn’t. Over the years they had all given up more and more simply to survive. For Willow to pull from her magic to keep a net of safety from possession over them was a blessing she had not expected. 

But between the spell to bring them back to when the portal had opened up and then to cast the barrier spell that had let them survive passing over into this dimension would have tapped her considerable reserves. The weeks before the spell had been rough too, it had been a last desperate measure to turn back the rising tide of evil that had been unleashed. That wasn’t even considering if she’d had to do any magic after they had landed. Willow might have tapped out the major part of her magic sucking energy out of the shields that were never taken down enough to become vulnerable. 

It was possible, and it had happened in the earlier days. Willow had taken a vicious beating that had nearly left her dead and had left her shielding over the girls weak. Two Slayers had been possessed. In the end they had killed them rather than let them roam the Earth in the bodies of Slayers. Willow had vowed never to let it happen again and spent the next several years finding any and all knowledge that could aid them in their cause. 

She shook her head trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Her eyes focused on Wesley and Angel across from her, and she took in the grim faces that surrounded her. She was desperate to somehow save Willow, but at the same time it was understood that some things were not possible. Sometimes hard choices were necessary. Faith sighed. Sometimes you had to kill your friends for the greater good. 

“We can’t assume it’s the same situation!” Angel finally raised his voice, his face hard.

“There isn’t anything to be done Angel.” Wesley’s voice was quiet and void of emotion. “You saw it last time. All four of us he did. If it’s what you think then-“ 

“We can’t know yet. It could be possession!” Angel sighed rubbing one hand along his forehead. “We can’t decide what to do without more information.”

“Where would you suggest we get it from? We don’t have any of resources we had in L.A. No way to research. I-” Wesley stopped and pulled his glasses off cleaning them. He replaced them and continued his voice hushed. “I don’t know what to do Angel. I want to help. Willow saved my life, saved all of ours and to stand here inactive is…it’s not something I enjoy. But I don’t know what to do.”

Faith licked her lips and spoke up. “I’ve seen possessions. Not the little demons like you’ve probably seen plenty of, but some of the big ones; the old ones. I might be able to tell better. If it’s somethin’ little then Alice might be able to shed some light. If it’s old though…I don’t know how to bring her back.” Faith’s voice hung in the air for a long moment, the silence stretching. 

“What about the word.” Angel frowned searching his mind for it and turned to Spike.

“Revenshaum.” Spike said carefully, each syllable perfectly formed as though he had been turning it over in his mind since Willow had uttered it. “Just before it took hold back over her. Red said somethin’ about him coming back and then yelled that bit. Not sure what it means or if it helps, but every little bit…”

“He is old.” Illyria’s voice sounded from where she stood away from the rest of them, he head held at a strange angle as she tugged on a vibrant green leaf. The words dropped like dead weights making the silence a living breathing thing. After a long moment she abandoned the foliage and walked towards the group her unsettling blue eyes moving from person to person rapidly. 

“What’s that then Blue?” Spike’s voice broke the silence like a rock breaking through water. 

“Revenshaum. I knew him once, before.” She turned her head toward Willow down the trail behind them. “I can feel him now. He attempts to take control of the woman.” She turned back and a brief smile rested on her lips. “She is fighting him, he is weak. There is hope for her yet.” She looked over them once more before returning to the foliage in interest. 

**

Willow looked around her warily, eyes moving quickly over the shadowed bushes and trees surrounding her. She stood in the only patch of sunlight in the place. She turned in a tight circle as her eyes scanned around her. She wasn’t sure what had happened after her magic had erupted with Spike and Angel on the rooftop. She could remember a dream with Tara speaking to her in this same place, but when she’d woken again there had been someone else here. 

Revenshaum. It echoed through her mind like a malignant whisper. She hadn’t seen him, but his voice was something she could not ignore. It slithered along her veins, wrapping itself around her bones, insinuating itself into the core of her being. It vibrated through her, an aching wound that sought to compel her, to bring her to her knees as a supplicant. It lusted after her, after her strength and power; after her physical body. 

Years ago fear would have incapacitated her. The fear was still there, lingering in the back of her mind like an unpleasant taste but she had long ago learned how to push it to the wayside and deal with it when she had the luxury of doing so. She needed to get out of this damn place and find Spike and Angel.

Suddenly, as though cobwebs had been brushed back from her mind’s eye she could remember. Spike’s voice had been a delicate thread. reaching out to her reminding her of who she was and where she’d been. She’d thrust the name out, taken back control of herself and they had been here. But he had still pulsed around her. Pushing back into her body like a Virus to destroy her. 

When she’d first woken from the dream with Tara there had been nothing. Not around her, the scenery had not changed. But she had experienced a detached sense of knowledge. Spike and Angel had seemed abstract forms that would find her so long as she stayed put. She’d wandered here and there investigating the various plant and animal life. There had been berries of some kind that she had eaten without a second thought. 

Willow’s mouth thinned into a hard line. Her shields must have gone down after her magic had exploded on top of the Spire. That’s why she hadn’t remembered Spike or Angel initially. Not really anyway. He’d gotten in so easily because there had been none of her usual defenses to stop or slow him. 

“What do you want?” Her voice seemed to be absorbed into the air, as though the shadows were a palpable aware thing swallowing her words to analyze them. 

“You.” The voice was a sibilant whisper that ghosted over her skin raising goose bumps in its wake. “Jussst you. Give usss what we crave and you can go quickly.” The shadows which had been dense to begin with began to form into shape. 

Willow watched with steely eyes. Slowly so very, very slowly she was gathering her magic up. She had to watch as the shadows built upon themselves to build a full form. Its color was the same at the shadows but somehow denser and more full of itself. The form moved forward from the deeper shadows until it brushed the edge of the sun filled circle Willow stood in. 

She breathed in and as she did so she pulled the frayed edges of her shields in tight against her body fixing and reattaching the threads of magic. When she breathed back out the mended shields bounced into place; giving her space to be without that thing’s voice whispering in her veins. 

She gasped, blinking; and fell to her knees as the pain ripped over and through her. Her shields held tight though they wavered vaguely merely settling into her bones. She shuddered and opened her eyes. For a brief moment the image of the clearing lined with scarred stony faced girls wavered in her vision and tried to stabilize. Instead black runners blotted Willow’s sight and when she had a clear eyed view again she was looking at Revenshaum through the shimmer of light that was her shields. 

\--


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group fights back as the demons from L.A. close in on them.

Spike had been watching Willow intently, the only person in their group who could play guard without cringing. At the moment, the rest of them were back halfway up the trail discussing their courses of action. Illyria hadn’t offered anymore choice knowledge and everyone was starting to get a mite twitchy. 

One on hand, if something old and nasty was trying to possess Willow they had to at least attempt to stop it. Willow wouldn’t want something parading around her skin causing havoc. Yet, on the other hand she was trying to fight it off. She also had more power than any of them could quite wrap their brains around. Even if they tried to do anything no one was positive it would work, and along with that if they tried and hurt Willow as she was fighting it off they could do more harm than good. 

He ran a hand half despairingly through his short spiked hair trying to find a way out of this. His eyes were locked on Willow, begging her to give them a sign that she was fighting. That she was winning. If they had something, maybe he and Angel could get the conversations on whether they should attempt to kill her for the greater good to cease.   
She was sitting prone, leaned up against a tree in the shade. Her face was a blank mask, and her hands were limply braced against either thigh. She hadn’t moved in more than ten minutes, and the fear had been wrapping sinuous tendrils around him since she’d stopped. 

As he watched, a silent mantra of ‘fight Red fight’ going nonstop, Willow’s face shifted. A cloudy awareness bloomed in her green eyes, not much but better by miles than the vacant stare that had been painted over her features. Her face followed suit, a tiny line of determination forming between her eyes to match the hard line of her mouth.   
A small tremor ran over her, and limp hands curled into small clenched fists. Spike stood slowly, hope blooming in his chest. He hesitated to call anyone and alert them of the change if this was nothing. He licked his lips waiting for something else, anything else. He watched as her face twisted into a snarl, and a dense shockwave of energy burst out from her in a circle knocking Spike roughly to his feet. 

Spike coughed, brushing tree leaves and other detritus from his body and head as he regained his footing. “Bloody hell Red.” His eyes returned to Willow, she sat in the same position, but she seemed to hum with energy. 

“Peaches, might want to come and see this. I think we’ve got a bit of a situation.”

\--  
Faith grumbled to herself as she climbed back to her feet. Angel was already headed down towards Spike and Angel, and dollars to doughnuts that wave of energy had been Willow. Faith rocked on her feet, tension building between her shoulder blades. 

She cracked her knuckles, inclined to follow when she felt a familiar tap on one should followed by Kira’s voice in her ear.

“The girls on sentry sent a runner. Something is coming this way, and making plenty of noise doing it.” Faith paused taking in their situation before replying. 

“Keep the four up there on duty and alert. I want them ready to fight, but not trying to. Send Sable and Ghost with two girls a piece out on our sides. They know the deal, out on the sides and don’t pick a fight unless it’s necessary. Divy up the rest of the girls between the two of you and cover everybody as best you can.” 

Faith inhaled and breathed in deeply, feeling the early rush of adrenaline in her blood. She took off towards the head of the path where a 4 slayer sentry had set up. All of the girls were standing, one of them leaning on a sword. 

She nodded to them and then stepped through their loose line until she was five or six feet into the main path. The underbrush snapped and cracked under what sounded like half a dozen people. The air was growing thick and heavy, Faith could smell magic in the air like ozone before a coming storm. A rough breeze was breaking through the trees sending her hair flying around her head, along with all the detritus the forest had to offer. 

Faith bared her teeth into the wind, more of a war face than a grimace. Her palms itched for the feel of a weapon or flesh under her fists. Either way it didn’t matter too much. It was the feeling of Slaying before it happened. Blood beating like a drum through her ears; Adrenaline striking its way through her still limbs, making them tremble with anticipation. 

For her this way the Slayer sense, violence blooming in her chest like a vicious flower. She turned back to the line of girls who were watching with jaded eyes that shone like wounds out of the faces of children. 

“Something’s definitely coming.” She announced. “Dunno ‘bout you, but I can feel it creepin’ in. Hold off unless you see them make a move, or its necessary. Just follow my lead. Y’all know the drill, simple as that.”

She turned back facing out onto the main trail a few steps in front of the girls. The wind had died down, but the sound of feet on the trail was growing closer. Faith steeled herself for anything, the sheer anticipation of the thing damn near driving her insane. 

A moment later half a dozen demons burst along the trail raucously. They were speaking in a foreign tongue, their voices excited.   
“Hey now boys. You were almost late to the party.” Faith smiled predatorily, her muscles quivering to move, to fight, to Slay. 

The demons stopped when she spoke, all of them fixing on the five slayers on the side of the trail. One of them snarled, and the group of them charged. Faith charged forward to meet them, the other Slayers only a step behind her. 

Faith jumped, and kicked, stabbing one of the demons before flipping backwards out of the range of another. One of them tried to grab her as she landed, and missed by inches. It was swept off its feet by a low kick before Faith snapped its neck something dark within her finding pleasure in the sound. She stood to see what was left, and the fight was over.   
Her girls were cleaning off their weapons and returning to the mouth of the trail. She picked up the dagger she’d dropped before snapping the thing’s neck, and got her first real looks at the things. They were dark brown with wide splashes of dark green and black; two arms and two legs.

She’d have to tell Willow about this when things calmed down. If things calmed down. Faith sheathed the dagger on a scabbard resting on her thigh and a scowl replaced her manic grin of only minutes ago. She left the other Slayers to send word if anything showed up they couldn’t handle and headed back down towards Willow.   
\--

Angel kept his eyes trapped between Spike and Willow. It was obvious she was fighting whatever had possessed her. Her eyes were beginning to darken with determination coming closer and closer to their usual clarity. Her small hands were clutched into fists, and fine tremors were running through her muscles. 

Just after he’d gotten down here, a vicious wind had started to kick up around Willow. It left her and the ground she sat on untouched, but in widening circles around her debris had been torn around haphazard. 

Faith stood behind him at the entrance to the clearing. Her face was stony, but she seemed calmer. Probably the result of the scuffle he’d heard up the path. He wanted all of these things to connect somehow into a long kinetic string of something that could save them. 

He didn’t want to say it out loud, but Willow was the one who’d gotten them here and it was very possible that she was the only one powerful enough to get them all home. He didn’t want to even consider the fact that she wouldn’t come through all of this victorious. It was obvious she was fighting back, and Willow’s magic was spilling from her in a deluge. 

The air was getting thick with it, clouds rolling in with thunder rolling ominously in the distance. The space between his shoulder blades itched, and Angel quirked an eyebrow. Something was wrong here. 

The clouds were quickly blotting out what little light had filtered through the trees, making them stretch naked and ominous around Willow. The rain began to spill down in fat drops, cooling the hot afternoon. Lightning flashed and Angel spun on his heel. 

“Faith. The things at the top of the path a minute ago, what were they?”

“Nothin’ I could tell in particular.” She turned concerned brown eyes to Angel. “Why, what are you thinking?”

“Willow’s been letting out a lot of magic, it might draw in things we don’t like. I can’t put my finger on it, but something here-something other than willow-is very very wrong.”  
“You’re thinking they were the scouting party?”

“Something like that.” Angel’s voice was quiet and tense, surrounded by the sound of rain on the trees. 

As though in response to their conversation lightning flashed again, followed by the war cry of a battle party. It echoes screaming through the woods. Faith’s face tightened and she began calling out orders. 

“We got uglies. Full armor and gear now. Break up into your units. Don’t die.” She turned on her heel and looked at Angel as the Slayers geared up grim faced. She turned back to Angel and her face was a fierce mask with dark brown pools for eyes. 

“I’m not leaving Willow mate.” Angel turned back to Spike who had stood and walked over to the two of them. “You lot take care of what you can. I’ll dispatch the interlopers.” He turned his eyes to Faith. “I won’t let them hurt the chit.”

Faith nodded. “I’ll hold you to that one Blondie. You comin’ up with me or are you gonna take second rank?” She asked turning her attention back to Angel. 

“I’ll be where I need to be.” He paused as lightning struck again, heralded by the deep rolling thunder. There was a brief moment, and then the encroaching enemy screamed again, a roar that seemed to fill up the dark sky. 

A dark haired Slayer ran up to Faith and handed her a long gleaming sword, which she efficiently sheathed along her back. She heaved a heavy sigh and looked up to the sky for a brief moment.

“Everyone in, we’ve only got a few minutes.” Faith waited until the Slayers were grouped around her, with Angel, Spike, Illyria, Wesley and Gunn at their outskirts. “So here’s the deal. They’re gonna try to press in, take all of us out and finish with Willow. Short story is we don’t let them. Hold the choke points, retreat only when necessary. Sable and Ghost are out laying a few traps that’ll slow ‘em down.” The rain started to pour down in earnest now, soaking all of them to the skin. 

“We hold the line. Willow’s saved our ass plenty, so now we return the favor. Everybody geared up?” As Faith paused two more slayers melted out of the darkness and into the huddle. “Good. Now get to where you’re going. We’re looking at a target rich environment.”

Faith spared another nod to Angel before her face transformed into a fierce feral grin and she turned on her heel taking off at a jog towards the mouth of the path. The demons were close enough Angel could hear their screams, and the ominous sound of their boots trampling over trees and path alike. 

In the final moments before their battle-which with their luck was the entirety of the horde they’d escaped in L.A.-it was the little things he notices. Spike’s face sharp as a razor, with a smirk coloring his features; Willow lying against a tree a snarl evident on her face. Wesley and Gunn bent over extra weapons as they readied themselves. 

Angel clenched his fist and opened his mouth to speak when the scream of the demons was met with the scream of steel as the Slayers began their defense. Spike scoffed and shook his head. “Too late now mate, best get to your place before the dance really gets going.” He turned and placed himself in front of Willow, a coiled spring of violence should anyone threaten her.

He turned, running towards the battle with Wesley and Gunn. He could hear the defiant battle cries of Slayers fighting against the beastial roar of the demons. One of the men tossed him a tested hand-and-a-half sword.  
\--  
Faith snarled, the entire line of her body shoving a long sword through the body of a demon as it tried to break through the line. The light in it’s eyes extinguished and before she could blink there was another trying. Most of the Slayers were ranged out, holding the choke point and doing their best not to retreat backwards. Several more were initiating fight and flight skirmishes to help drain and confuse the enemy. 

The demons themselves were like an ocean of bodies, bobbing just past the point of her blade. Blue had waded hip deep in the damn things, tossing them around like ragdolls while she laughed at their blood washing over her. Wes and Gunn were shoulder to shoulder and hip deep in gore with another Slayer watching their back. 

The Demons surged, and their line fell back four paces. Faith snarled, and slashed at an incoming demon decapitating it. The line advanced two paces. It was a back and forth dance. Stab, slash, duck. She skewered another demon screaming viciously as she did so. Her sword stuck itself into the ground, so she pulled twin daggers from a sheath on each of her thighs.

She gutted another demon, using it as a shield and then tossing it onto a third demon. She sprang away from the line and it closed up in her absence. She ducked through the line of demons attacking without ceasing movement. Illyria found her somewhere in the midst of it, as their numbers seemed to dwindle. They danced around each other for a long moment, bodies growing around them like a makeshift fortress.

One of the demons scored a well placed thrust to her chest and Faith felt the armor flex and throw her to the ground roughly. She rolled to her feet, but she was vulnerable and she could hear if not see a shot coming her way. There was a snarling roar, and the blow was stopped as Angel tackled the demon tearing its throat out as he did so.   
Faith stood panting, and met Angel’s eyes. For the moment at least the demons had retreated. She motioned the Slayers to re-up and get ready for the push. This wasn’t going to last. 

“Thanks Angel.” She said quietly.

“No problem.” He said cleaning his mouth of with a ripped sleeve. He grimaced and spit. “bleh. Demon blood.”  
Faith smiled and shook her head moving back into position.   
\--  
Spike paced back and forth, eyes darting around him, fists clenching and unclenching methodically. He could hear the din of battle, but thus far nothing had broken through. He chanced another look back at Red and his lip curled turning his face into a menacing snarl. 

She licked her lips once wetting them and then began to chant under her breath. Her muscles corded as she did so, eyes becoming brighter and brighter green as she did so.   
“Red?” Spike asked quietly, shooting a glance back in front of him for anything to kill. No such luck. He looked back to Willow, she wouldn’t respond but kept chanting her eyes filled with burning intensity. 

He began to pace again, as the horde screamed again though it was lesser than it had been an hour ago. The bushes rustled and Spike pinned his eye on it as half a dozen demons snuck out from the foliage. Spike snarled and one of the demons rushed in. He punched it one knocking it backwards before grasping it around the head and snapping its neck. 

He snarled game, dropping into full game face and as he did so the demons screamed their eyes going wide. Spike stopped and looked down at himself. “I know I’m a bit terrifying but at least have the respect for evil not to be such pansies.” He shook his head and took a step forward about to rush forward and dispatch of the rest of the demons. 

As he did, two things happened in quick succession. The demons took off into the brush faster than they’d appeared, and Willow started to scream. It was a chilling unending thing that was like nails on a chalkboard.

He turned on his heel running back to wheel and dropping to his knees as he skidded to a stop, hands on her shoulders. 

“Red! Red? C’mon now luv, don’t do this! Fight ‘em…c’mon now Red.” His voice wavered between panic and true despair. She continued to scream, eyes squeezed shut, and hands bleeding from how tight she had them clenched. Spike shook her shoulders trying to get her to snap out of it and her eyes popped back open.

They were more pale white than green now and glowing with the power of her magic. As though they had been the gateway, magic poured out of her. Lightning struck the ground around them, and Spike gathered Willow into his arms, shielding her body with his. She stopped screaming, but the magic deluge continued. Her body temperature began to rise and she whimpered once.

The searing heat ripped through Spike, tearing the oxygen from the air as a Fireball erupted around them.  
\--  
“Get down!!” Faith felt the command rather than heard it, but as she hit the deck so did everyone else fighting. Barely a second after a massive fireball screamed up and around them. At first she could feel the searing heat, almost taste the fire dancing over her skin. Panic jumped into her throat as the air became too hot to breathe and then Willow’s shield slid over her like water. 

Faith blinked and looked back up hesitantly. The demons had been eliminated, their carcasses like melted lumps of flesh. 

“Everybody okay?” Faith’s voice seemed quiet in comparison to the battle, and the scream of fire as it had raced past them. 

“Yes, but how. I mean? What the hell was that, it felt like somebody hit me with a bucket of ice when the fire hit me?” Gunn’s voice was incredulous and curious.

“It was Willow.” Kira answered holding a gash in one arms that was bleeding around her fingers. “Her shields protect us. Maybe this means she’s winning.” The words were hopeful and just what the girls needed.

They began to attend to each other, patching up wounds and dragging off girls who would need rest before fighting again further down the path. Faith looked back at the path discerningly. She could still hear the sound of boots on the path.

“Up and ready, something else is out there.” She called out, as a group of humans entered her sight. 

The men on horseback were in a rectangle, two to a side. Just behind them were men in long dark robes, and it looked like there might have been even more people behind them. They stopped about thirty feet away and stared at the Slayers cautiously. After several long moment, they opened up their formation. 

The 7 men ion horseback dismounted. All of them wore heavy armor in the style of plate, and carried either a sword and shield or a hand-and-a-half sword. Inside their ranks were six more people both men and women. They wore dark robes of various style with blue trim. Beyond them was a third rank of eight more people. Four men and four women. They wore simple white tunics with green trim. 

One of the women in white walked about halfway over to Faith and spoke, her voice carrying as she stood amidst the carnage of the recent battle unmoved. “Will you speak with me? I believe I have information that could be of help.”

Faith over at Angel silently asking his opinion, he nodded slightly and she smiled just a little bit before walking over to the woman. She had thick black hair piled on top of her head artfully, and pale blue eyes.

“My name is Lydia, and I am the high priestess of Caeros, the white city that’s just beyond the forest. I believe a friend of yours may have dropped into the prison cell of a very nasty, very old creature. We’re here to resecure him. I have six other temple members, seven mages whom can bind him once he’s been pulled from whomever he is trying to possess, and seven knights of the city to protect all of us. “

Faith met Lydia’s calm open eyes silently. “When you say once he’s been pulled from them, what exactly do you mean?”

“It’s an exorcism of sorts. Old magic to tempt him out so he can be bound back to existence without shape or form.”  
“Risks to the host?”

“Minimal.”

“I’ll take you down, and you can try to work your mojo. But I’m warning you now, you or any or your people trying to hurt her I’m not the scariest thing you have to deal with.”


End file.
